( written in a human au )
The library is lit by the soft glow of a small dragon, about the size of a particularly large housecat playing with sparks and bolts of lightning atop a desk. The oil lanterns have been mostly doused, a leftover desire to distance the occupant from fire. She can't stand it, she can't deal with it, even to this day she avoids it like the plague. Anima herself, the only person to be awake in the library late at night sits wrapped in a blanket as she pours through the stacks of tomes laid in front of her. They are all old, faded and torn at the edges. The long forgotten volumes sometimes lack their text, and she illuminated underneath the soft glow of her own power as she reads.
Plumed spikes lie across the table, their points coated in blood. A cursory glance at Annie shows blood and grime tangled in the hair that falls over her face and her face shows scratches and one particularly large gash just above her right eye that cuts through her eyebrow. They have all long since clotted, serving only to make her skin darker as she tries to find some kind of information as to what attacked her.
She'd never seen anything like it before. Then again, to say that she'd seen it would be an overstatement. Whatever it was had perfectly blended into the shade of the Veil in the trees, flinging spines and spikes at her from some unknown spot. The majority she'd managed to avoid or simply got embedded in her armour. Her gauntlets left on the table show the scratches and wear that the spines managed to cause. Still, some managed to find their mark and she wasn't going to see a Spiritcaller about it if her life depended so instead, she holed herself up in a dusty catacomb with books to find something that would match the description.
Would anyone come down here? She'd been holed up here for what feels like hours. She's aware that at some point she's slept - she awoke with a crick in her neck and pain in places that she didn't know could ache. But the catacombs obscure the passing of days and she feels herself slip into something of a daze. Books pile up around as she forgoes eating and drinking what little she needs to keep going. Something new to discover! She can't wait, pouring the pages like an overeager child that gets so absorbed in playtime that they lose track of time completely.
The faint chittering in her ears as a spark catches in her temple causes her head to snap up, staring at the dragon for a second with narrowed eyes. "Nidhogg, I swear by the Goddess... Knock it off." She grumbles, batting the dragonling away from her face. He huffs, blowing a cloud of air and static at his mother to fluff up her hair which sticks up at odd angles charged with static. "Go! Go find someone else to play with! Anyone would think you're a spoilt brat."