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He puts the book beside Shrieky, but as a concession, face down. No accusing googly eyes will stare at Shrieky now.

"Well..." Really, this is a job for a librarian, but Tyrion appreciates people who don't ask why he's short. And people generally haven't, here, because there are stranger things than him walking around, but he's still been cautious. At home, he has his family's name to protect him. Here he has Jaime, who can't be by his side all the time. "... what are you interested in? Or will anything do?"

Shrieky considers sweeping the book to the floor again, but decides to wait until Tyrion leaves before doing so. Because manners. He's working on them.

"I like fables, and history. I like to know of unusual creatures, and how things became what they are now." Shrieky resists the temptation to add 'Mermaids' to his list of interests, because the last time he did that it resulted in some terrible and sad story telling. "Have you been able to read for very long?"

Though pleased by Shrieky's preference in subjects, Tyrion's smile at the question is a little twisty.

"Yes, since I was young." His answer is short but not rude or cold; he's just more interested in the other part. "Come, I will show you the section. I've been reading about dragons, myself."

He takes a hold of his rolling step ladder again, pausing to give Shrieky time to follow. The shelves set aside for creatures is not far, though 'unusual' is difficult to apply accurately in a city where just about anything might show up, and where mixed breed mutts are more highly valued than purebred dogs.

Shrieky slips out from behind the table and follows Tyrion without hesitation. Although still resisting the urge to ask him about it, he is acutely aware of the fact that he could probably just... pick Tyrion up, if he wanted too.

What he'd do next is less clear, so he resists the urge and focuses on the conversation at hand.

"Really? I've heard a little about dragons, over the years. Did you learn anything of interest about them?"

Blissfully unaware of Shrieky's mental wandering, Tyrion warms to his topic despite himself.

"So your world has them too? It's not clear to me yet if there are any here, though there are books from other worlds which talk about many different types. Flying, breathing fire, big, small... there's some speculation that there may be a sea serpent in the ocean or even the river. I, personally, shall not be checking."

He wheels the stepladder over to a certain shelf and climbs up, not without some difficulty. "Hh. Blast. This is practically as big as me. Come up and get it, would you?"

Tyrion just hops right off the ladder like acrobatics are totally cool to practice at the library, landing and rolling to his feet easily.

Shrieky resists the urge to applaud Tyrion's amazing dwarven tumble, but he fails to resist the urge to stare, because that... that was excellent! It was the single best utilization of legs that he's ever seen! If he tried to jump off a ladder, then he'd probably just break his neck and die, and actually, the prospect of climbing the one which Tyrion so artfully descended is a little intimidating to him.

Fortunately, what he lacks in leg use, Shrieky makes up for in the length of his arms.

"I've never actually seen one, but yes! In my world they are known to reside in mountains, and to hoard great treasures." He replies, reaching up to carefully pull the large book out from the shelf. "I don't believe that I've ever heard of one being aquatic before, but there is no shortage of things here which I've never heard of."

The book comes down, and Shrieky catches it with both arms, stumbling back slightly. It reminds him of the kind of books Everett would have owned, and that thought makes him suddenly dubious about his chances of actually being able to read it.

"Treasures? I wonder what they'd want with those." Tyrion thinks about it as he heads toward a table with the stepladder in tow, though in fact he can get on the chair just fine. "Perhaps a sort of lure for people to come like meals delivered to their door. Okay, let's take a look. It might use some unique terminology but what matters is that you're interested."

Once the book is positioned so they can both read it, Tyrion leafs through to the first entry, which features a small drawing.

"'These are the most gregarious of all dragons, and are famous for their love of conversation.' The dragons I know of don't talk. 'They crave sunlight and dry heat, so they frequent hot, arid regions, particulary sandy deserts. They like to make their lairs in high, rocky caves.'" He pauses and glances at Shrieky. "Sound like something you want to know more about?"

"I always assumed that they were like giant, fire breathing magpies." Shrieky offers, following Tyrion to the table. He takes a seat beside the dwarf, and scootches his chair in so that he can see the book well, "Although, from what I was told, many people did try to go into their homes. Killing them was treated as a noble pursuit, because it proved so difficult."

He leans in closely, to peer at the image of the dragon, before Tyrion begins to read the text. As he begins to read, Shrieky's eyes flick up from the image to search through the text eagerly.

"Where is that part? Here?" He points at a patch of text beside the image of the Dragon. Somewhat predictably, it is the wrong patch of text. Still, from his demeanor it's easy enough to tell that he's enthusiastic to hear more.

"Somewhat less ill-tempered, I think." He deadpans, then says, "Ah, no, it's this part. The other part, that's 'Brass dragons have dull, motted brown scales at birth. As time goes on, the scales become more brassy until they reach a warm, burnished appearance.' How good are you with your letters...?"

The slight trailing off marks his sudden memory of the inexplicable text conversation he had upon arrival. Granted, he had a few of those, but that's the one that stood out most in his mind. Is this... Tyrion tries not to laugh suddenly, stifling it by staring fixedly at the drawing.

"I know the alphabet." Shrieky replies, a little curtly, "But you need to show me which word it is you're reading out, or I get lost."

That's right, Tyrion, you have to put your finger under each word as you read it, or he can't follow along. It's the only way. When Tyrion falls silent, Shrieky turns to look at him, to check if there's any immediately obvious reason why he's no longer providing a commentary.

"Is there something wrong?"

Tyrion clears his throat hastily. "Ah, no, just wondering if they meant 'mottled' instead of 'motted', I'm not familiar with that term. You know, this may take some time. Which I'm not opposed to in the slightest, I have plenty of that for now. Might I ask your name?"

He hadn't gotten a name out of that mystery conversant, but there's something entertaining and appealing about trying to read through tomes of dragon lore with this sullen individual. It's not that no one cares for dragons at home, but no one cared to read or talk with him about them. It was primarily a solitary interest that others looked at with tolerant amusement. (The word 'geeky' hasn't entered Tyrion's lexicon yet.)

Shrieky's expression registers a moment of open discomfort at the question, before he clears his throat and studiously directs his eyes towards the picture of the Brass Dragon. "Mermaid."

He decides against volunteering any additional information to go with that, instead skimming his eyes loftily across the pages, as if he has any idea what any of the words there say.

Although his expression doesn't really change, Tyrion misses a beat before he manages to respond.

"Oh, I see." Really, is that any weirder than having, say, a three-headed dragon for a family crest? Actually it is, in his opinion, but he's trying to adjust his worldview now that he's in Baedal. "I'm Tyrion. How about you pick whatever entry you'd like to read, and we'll... work through it?"

Shrieky decides that he's glad he didn't ask about Tyrion's diminutive stature. That might have bred the kind of rapport between them which would require some kind of dialogue to open up between them about his being a Mermaid. As it is, instead, he just mutters a polite little: "I'm pleased to meet you, Tyrion", and jabs his finger towards a particularly iridescent dragon illustration.

"How about this one?" He steals a sidelong glance towards the short man sitting next to him.

Forgoing further pleasantries, which are evidently of an uncomfortable nature with Mermaidman, as he has helplessly labeled Shrieky, Tyrion looks at the dragon in question.

"'A Greater Mimicker'," he reads, proceeding at what he feels is a reasonable rate. "'A wyrm of limited color-changing properties, which makes its home in tropical rain forest...'"

Some time passes like this before Tyrion realizes there are still errands to be done.

"If you'd like, we can continue another time." Mermaidman, he adds silently.

Shrieky is really quite engrossed in learning about the dragon types, and slowly picking out the words as Tyrion reads them aloud. He glances up at Tyrion's offer, and after a moment's hesitation, gives a ponderous nod.

"I would like that. When should we meet again?"

He taps his fingertips lightly on the edge of the table, waiting for Tyrion's answer. The soothing power of having something read to him was already put Tyrion quite high up Shrieky's list of favorite people in Baedal.

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had to force myself to remove "A FELLOW DRAGON FANBOY!!!!!" from this.

SCALEY PALS 4 LYFE!!!!1!

imagine a high school AU where they both fill notebooks with mystical creatures during math class

Having to sit in the front cause they can't be trusted not to do beautiful drawings of cocatrice :|

beautiful

Really we have just described my high school years ;-;

HAHAHA, imagining teenyCatherine carefully drawing out that bat comic

I had a lot of feelings about bats ;-; and THE PERILS WHICH ACCOMPANY THEM

pretty perilous /slams back in here super late

A Tyrion tag is never early and never late, it arrives precisely when it intends to!

well I'm telling everyone you said that from now on

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