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Where: Four Fronds Public (???) Library

Alifax always felt out of place here. Unfortunately, that feeling was only magnified now.

It was just...Four Fronds was such a nice place. Everything was all fancy, with big double doors and clean windows and carpets that didn't look like they contained the debris of former meals. And it was in highblood colors - blues and greens and purples, with nice, well-cared for books for rows and columns. He stood out even as a teenager in the Four Fronds Library - a Bunsem would never belong here. As a redblooded kid with tattered pants and without a lusus, he just looked wrong. Or he thought so, anyway.

But he had to find information, and New Hemisect City and Chittentown were too out of the way, when he was on his way to his regularly-scheduled FLARP date with Hazzan and Frossa. None of the historical records in his own hive had mentioned anything about becoming smaller overnight, and that potion...well, he didn't want to think about that potion.

He walked past the information desk, feeling like he was sneaking, and went for the reference books immediately. He knew what Dewwey decimal he was looking for already; he'd looked it up at home just so he wouldn't have to ask a librarian here - he didn't want to be kicked out, or worse, culled, for being out of place. Unfortunately, there was far more than one book with the right number. And most of them looked...heavy. He didn't think he could carry more than three; he wouldn't want to go for more and risk being, well, noticed. So he picked the three that looked like they were the densest in terms of text and barest in terms of images: those would be the most informative, right?

Now it was time to find a seat. Preferably next to someone who didn't look...threatening. Which was difficult, because the neighborhood was full of highbloods, and so the building was full of them, too. Maybe...someone younger?

He spotted a little girl with two twin buns poring over some verbose tomes. Where was her lusus? Not around? Small, then. He...might be able to defend himself. Hoping she didn't have a poisonous lusus, he stumbled on over to her table, books in tow.

"Um, Miss Highblood, ma'am?" he asked, feeling silly calling a little girl, ma'am. Wasn't she a little familiar-looking? No, that couldn't be...

Alifax shrunk back the moment she addressed him, as though he hadn't expected her to dignify him with a response. He probably hadn't. "Ah."

While she was familiar, Alifax was certain he didn't remember anyone like her. But he did remember the caves, and - oh, had she noticed that? Alifax winced involuntarily (he hadn't wanted anyone to notice, although it might've been inevitable - still, it had been pretty crowded. Maybe she was one of a few. Maybe that was far too optimistic of a thought.), tensing his arms a bit as he did so, and then immediately regretting that: the books were biting into the skin of his upper arms that much more acutely. Could he - no, he couldn't relax them; he might drop them.

"Ah...ah, I don't, actually, um, highbl - . I mean." Had there been some sort of prerequisite to addressing her by the bloodcaste she'd been born into? What was he supposed to call her? He didn't like the taste of the word "mistress" (or "master") on his tongue, and she didn't seem like a "greenblood" sort (besides, Alifax didn't think he had the caste to be pulling that form of address on anytroll). Perhaps Sir? Or maybe he...wasn't supposed to address her at all. Lowbloods should be seen and not heard. He'd read that in a couple of places. Was she that sort? He wilted under that little kiddie glare - he wouldn't have been disturbed by it, ordinarily, but at the moment he was around her size.

And she'd been around his size when he'd met her, too, if it had been in that cavern (maybe that was why she looked so familiar). Oh, that made her dangerous. He dipped his head. "I'm deeply sorry for my presumption." Was that adequate? He waited.