The young man's thoughts were on what his son was thinking as the child's stunning eyes scanned the bindings of the books. Was he overwhelmed by the labyrinth of knowledge locked between the covers? He had to be. Kansas had discovered books when he was only a few months old, and he was still in awe of the millions of ideas and opinions they contained. It seemed positively endless. As his own gaze trailed along the rows of books, their different titles calling to him, he wished it were possible for him to read them all. Gotham seemed to be interested and even impressed by his dad's familiarity with them, though if he knew how little Kansas really did know he would have been disappointed. That was a painful thought.
Kansas considered his son's question, pausing at the end of the row and peering around the shelf as he did so. While he absently tried to decide upon which way to go next, he heard the raven child mimic his own little language slip-up, and the man's eyes widened. Instead of being concerned, however, he covered his muzzle with his fingers and laughed, unable to help himself. "Heh, uh... They, uh, come from the author's—that's the person who wrote the book—experiences. Everyone experiences life dif-, eh, differently, so that's why there are so many different thoughts," Still grinning, he glanced at Gotham to see how his explanation had done. Kansas walked around the row of books; there was a corner ahead of him, and when he rounded it (sure his son was right beside him), he was met with what he believed to be the Children's Section. He gestured toward it with his hand, allowing Gotham to take it in and then lead the way when he was ready.
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