( same difference, to her. stagnation and stasis, that she won't be able to see those she's come to care for or know their presence again - all that, for a girl like her? she might as well be dead indeed. she doesn't need to raise that particular thought, though, as it's swiftly addressed as soon as it crops up. that it bothers the librarians is also something else to consider, probably? she doesn't really know them as well, so.. )

I don't think twice about it if it's for the people I care about, or for myself.

( there's no delight, no enjoyment derived; it is simply something she must do. if it has to be between what's hers and others, is that choice not obvious? )

But I've also heard stories about a woman who went too far.

( hers, too, was a story of sacrificing others for something she desperately wished for. a love lost, and once upon a time she might've found the tale romantic if she hadn't met laudna and the rest of the hells.

the name uttered gives her pause, considering. it'd be easy to lie when it's her second nature, when it comes so naturally without even thinking most of the time, even if she has no particular reason to.

would he care? she doesn't really think so. she's not sure. )

He told me you weren't fond of him.