Ilde best likes the library in late evening, when it's quieter and dimmer even with the lights; there are fewer people around and the ones who are there tend to be a little bit quieter. The echoing sound of her heels on the hard floors leave her with the temporary impression of isolation, and in a space like this it's almost preferable.

Not so much that she minds anyone else (well, some), though, and any meandering speculation on her part about how nice it is not to have anyone bothering her (while she digs up what can be found on record about the university's own history and hiring practises) drifts away in the face of something more immediately diverting: those books are floating. The casual and public use of magic of most kinds is something she can be said to be generally in favour of, and the fact she recognizes the method being used is interesting again.

"There are a lot of you here," she observes, off that, because jumping into conversations in the middle of a tangent that only happened in her head is just something the rest of the world is obliged to get used to.