[color=teal]𝓣[i]he trees are always listening.

				Most of them are on our side, but there are trees that would betray us to them...
				
						... you know who I mean...[/i][/color]

	𝓣witching his smile under the Imperial mustache, the Professor bared a few crooked teeth. They were yellower in nature, “Ah, my dear. Always a pleasure to see a colleague cleaning his or her clock.” He narrowed his eyes at Lord Finnegan. The redness of his own face blushed with some boyish emotion, trying to skirt tail any unnecessary conversation that may direct him into a position of being ungentlemanly. There was a whim of test in him that would always exist, in the classroom and out of the classroom, especially for his students who survived his brutal examinations. 

	Lord Finnegan was definitely one of them, having a permanent fixation with experimenting with the human mind in one way or another, “To answer Lady Alyssana, I am looking into the core of the human body at the moment. Magic and fire. It's complete mayhem in my laboratory. Lots of explosions. Lots of fun.  Woooh,” his hands went upwards and jingled his fingers, “You two should come by sometime. But please, knock before entering. I have some top-secret information that I would not want getting out, but...” 

	The professor held up his fist with a little gesture that meant as much as it meant as little as it did to anyone who may understand or misunderstand the motion, “Is that not the truth about all of us?” He made a merry giggle as if he was eluding to something or another. It was what he did during class quite often, as if he was waiting for someone or something to happen upon his hybrid-thoughts of bio-steam mechanics and make more sense of it. Lord Finnegan had the notion his wife was probably at wit ends with him because she was never around him, even when he went out in public, but at this very moment, he was starting to wonder if the ring on his finger meant what it actually meant.

	“Our brothers are also here, conducting their own studies if that solves any mysteries you may be unnecessarily trying to solve. I assure you, there's no funny business going on. Nothing in comparison to your own fun. We shall have to stop by soon enough.” Lord Finnegan changed the subject as he listed his wrist, twisting it to see the time on his watch. Not much of anything had past, but the bookshelves seemed to have aged quite a bit just listening to the professor talk about himself. He had barely spoken a word, and yet the movement of time seemed to have warped. 

	There was a legend that the library was indeed a living, breathing entity. Its spirit was alive and well within the center of the building. The upkeep was different and strange, and there were so many rumors running around the large facility that no one ever knew who or what to believe about it. Even the employees themselves had their own stories, but it had become such a lore to the city to make-up stories about the library in order to draw even more attention to it, even if something had happened, it was hard to believe because of all the rumors. Lord Finnegan believed none of them and pegged the situation on his mindset on this morning's toxin, and the confusing aroma steaming from beneath Professor Mitchell's undershirt.

	“Oh my, yes, the brothers,” Professor Mitchell continued in his merriment, “We will all be delighted to see you. I promise you that, but [i]shhhh[/i]” his fist, let out his pointer finger and pressed it to his plump lip, “Don't let anyone or [i]anything[/i] know that you're invited. They may get the wrong idea...” His smile widened, “As if they too are invited.” He straightened his posture and pulled on his coat, “W-wery well, you two. I will be on my way, then.” His body made a small bow and straightened itself again as his eyes shifted about for someone or something and continued his way through the maze. There was a slight gaunt in his walk, and Lord Finnegan could not help feel the brows on his own face weaken against a faded smile.

	“So, yes, books on the number five,” Lord Finnegan managed after clearing his throat, “I am delving back into my studies of Phi and the Divine Ratio's relation to flora. Upon further looking at my own home library, I realized my collection is far from complete. It's a shame, really. Someone with such a successful operation should have a better grasp on his studies. Fortunately, I have everything memorized. However, I have to begin teaching Walter somehow.” There was a price for teaching Walter. He was not sure what it was, but it was there. It was an emptying of something in the back of his mind. Whether it be gone or not was hard for him to grasp as being of good or bad consequence.