The quiet ambience of the library room is surprisingly peaceful. This hidden manor on the outskirts of town served as a nice hideout - spacious enough for her and her allies, and far enough away from that damned city to not attract the nonstop brutality it brings. A moment to breathe among the madness.

Wilma sits silently, thumbing through the pages of a book; its worn, leatherbound cover speaks silently to how often its old owner must have gone through it. Glowing emerald eyes pan up to catch the glance of the other. A silent nod of her head is her first offer of a greeting. "...It's late," she says flatly. "Yet here you are."