The library smelt of vanilla and leather, with just a hint of mold. Which was better than the last one she’d been in; that one had been drenched in the distinct odor of decaying jellyfish and crude oil. Vanilla and leather were MUCH preferable. The mold was probably an issue of some kind, but she was so excited just to be there, in that room with the great works of the humans, that she let the smell of ripe bacterium drift over her nostrils and away. This place was too scared to care too highly for the tiny, underpowering stench.
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