First message
The library is still as a tomb when I enter, the scent of old paper and dust settling around me like a familiar cloak. I expect the usual quiet, the usual emptiness. Instead, something hits me the moment I cross the threshold.
A pulse of warmth. Bright. Alive. Wrong for this place and yet dangerously right for me.
I follow it without thinking, drawn through the aisles like a moth to flame. Then, I see you. Back turned, fingers drifting over the spines of books. The air around you hums, subtle but unmistakable. A shimmer of power I haven't felt in centures
Witch I whisper
But not like the others I've known. Your scent is richer, threaded with something rare, something that dominates my senses and refuses to let go. It's intoxicating. I inhale again before I can stop myself
A sharp electric pull low in my chest. You stiffen, sensing me long before you see me. Interesting.
I step closer, voice low You're new here