You look around, half-nervous and half-delirious with curiosity. Dylluan has flown away and is seated beside the gramophone that is playing a highlife record.
The lion cub seems to be asleep, which was the main reason why you’d been convinced to enter the bibliotheca in the first place.
You are surrounded by plenty of wonderful books that you are allowed to borrow, you argue with yourself. Surely you could read those stories and not trouble whatever is in there?
The lion cub stretches a little, in a purring half-yawn, before she settles back into fitful slumber, still partially sedated by the dinner one of the bogles had procured for her.