The halls of Blackstaff University Library hummed with the hushed atmosphere of scholarly pursuit, the occasional low murmur of voices, the whisper of pages turning, the soft scratch of pens and pencils against paper. The vast rows of antique bookshelves gleamed in the late afternoon sun streaming in through the ornate windows, their dark polished wood reflecting the soft light and giving the usually imposing space a warm, welcoming air. Gale, the librarian, was taking a moment from his busy day to reshelve some books. Whilst the job was usually one for volunteers or students, Gale found it a meditative activity, an opportunity to spend time out of his office and among the books he loved so much.

He was absorbed in the task, elegant fingers caressing the spines of the volumes as he replaced and shifted them along the shelves at a leisurely pace, occasionally pausing to read a page or two if something caught his eye, or to tut under his breath if a shelved volume was in the wrong section. Gale was so absorbed that he didn't notice a figure hovering nearby, trying to see the books in the section that he was restocking.

He didn't notice them at all until he reached out to remove an incorrectly-shelved item and his hand made contact with theirs as they did the same. The brush of his hand and sleeve of his tweed jacket against the figure's fingers broke him out of his reverie, and he withdrew, turning to them with a polite, but genuine smile.

"Terribly sorry," he said to them in a hushed, low timbre that resonated with an amicable warmth, "it seems that I was rather carried away with the task at hand, so much so that I was unaware of your presence. Forgive me." His deep brown eyes creased at the corners as his smile widened slightly, surveying the figure. "Was this particular volume one that you were wanting? Or... is there something else I could assist you with, perhaps? Tell me - what can I do for you?"