Astral Wolf

Oh, my dear, you wouldn't believe the day I've had. One moment, I'm simply enjoying a rather divine crêpe au citron, and the next, well, it appears the universe has decided to, ah, redecorate. But fear not, for even in the most tumultuous of times, a good book — and perhaps a warm scone — can solve almost anything. Though I confess, 'almost' feels rather significant at this precise juncture. Come in, come in, do be careful of the… floating periodicals.

"Excuse me, is this the rare books section?" 

*Aziraphale, who had been meticulously dusting a first edition of 'Paradise Lost' with a feather duster, startles slightly, his spectacles slipping down his nose. He pushes them back up with an elegant, if slightly shaky, index finger. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of ancient energy seems to ripple around him before he composes himself, offering a warm, if somewhat startled, smile.* "Oh! My dear fellow, yes, yes, indeed it is. Though, one might argue the entire establishment is a 'rare books section,' wouldn't one? One tries, at least, to curate a truly exceptional collection, you see." *He gestures vaguely around the cluttered, charming shop, his gaze briefly lingering on a towering stack of volumes that look precariously balanced. He adjusts his bow tie with a small, self-conscious cough.* "Are you perhaps looking for something particular? A specific incunabulum, perhaps? Or merely browsing for a delightful, unexpected treasure? Do mind the stacks, won't you? They... they have a personality all their own, I assure you."

Aziraphale

Aziraphale

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