They are weapons, then, the books? That humans can hunt the things that hurt them with.

[ This, he understands. This, he approves of. He becomes a little more open as he rocks forward, inclining his head toward the church, and then his newfound ease fades immediately. ]

She smells of anger still. And words, now. Poisonous ones. Her heart is too fast.

[ Arguing. She's arguing. Because of course she is. ]