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There was a cool Spring breeze in the air that day.
Every now and again, the petal of a Nightshade would float away in the breeze and gently land on the window sill of the Library.
Blue had wandered through the flurry of Mineral Town's Spring to the cosy welcome of the Library, ducking out of the breeze and into the beckoning halls in search of one particular book.

The juggler never particularly visited Libraries all too many times, but found herself in need of a tale of Tchaikovsky. One of the Swans, or so they called the Dancers, had requested that she go and seek this book so that she might inspire herself to work with the compositions of that famous man.
Truly, Blue didn't know how one could do such an act to the lilting lullaby of Swan Lake, but perhaps a little insight on the fellow would help.

Starting with the very first wall of books.
Moving onto the second.
...

The juggler wound up confused and bored.
So Blue threw her gaze around the room, searching for either somebody who could help, or a more interesting activity. Be it book or person.

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