Roseanne wandered through the quiet aisles of the library, her fingers trailing lightly over the spines of countless books. She had already been here for some time, but the vast collection always seemed to offer something new, something undiscovered. The library had become her retreat, a peaceful corner where she could lose herself in the stories and histories of the packs and lands far beyond her own.
Her eyes caught on a worn, leather-bound book tucked between two larger volumes. Unlike the other books on the shelf, this one seemed older, its cover slightly cracked, and embossed with a faint emblem—a delicate snowflake, intricately carved and surprisingly detailed for its small size. She paused, feeling an unexplainable tug towards it. Carefully, she pulled the book from the shelf, dust particles dancing in the air as the leather cover came fully into view.
