action
[ It's nothing much at first, really, the faint scuff, the near inaudible scrape of a shoe-sole over hardwood flooring, perfectly normal things in a library of any size. It's just a shape, a silhouette, shifting near the edge of one of those shelving units, the sway of a dark figure, a flicker of a rumpled suit jacket before it's gone, flicking down one of the many aisles.
Nothing to really take note of, those footsteps, brisk yet measured, quickly retreating from that tense, awkward meeting of friends. ]