That tone halted her again. It stung her skin and her flesh crawled with the undertone. She breathed hard at the empty air, curious and frustrated. A single moment before the air had felt lighter, full of promise and now...now it felt so heavy. So burdened.
Mag did not ask why. She would not ask why. It was not her business to know, not that she didn't care but it was not her tale to chase so freely.
Her lips formed a line but she turned to look over a shoulder at the direction the voice had come from. She lingered only a moment before pivoting completely on the balls of her feet. Slow was her approach to he doorway that would take her to the library and to the man within.
A palm upon the flat of the door and Mag sighed. Approaching that tone seemed intrusive, demanding, and yet some part of the tone was inviting. A cant of her head and her eyes twirled as her fingers found the decorative metal knob. It was cold in her grasp but she twisted it and pushed the door open. A sweep and she was across the threshold. A few steps more and the shadow of the library greeted her, and all she gave in return to the silence and darkness was the sound of her swishing skirt as she moved through the room gently.