Bull Rush pored through his catalogue, highlighting books and their locations. Wikipedia had given him a start. Truly a marvelous invention of the heard. Hungarian mythology about a sun god. Regretably, there was a paucity of books on hungarian that he had. Only two to look though. Written in latin, and translated through literature's version of a meat grinder, but it would give him a place to start. Before he could go examine the book, the bell at the door kindly informed him that he had work to do.

She was a middle aged woman, as most of his clients seemed to be. "Good day Sir. I was hoping I could have you evaluate this book for me. It was in my grandfather's library, and with his passing, we are looking to divest from it.
Bull Rush examined the piece. 17th century, slavic from the monk's signature and dedication to St. Ivan Rilski. It was a thin book, unfortunately, Bull Rush couldn't read cyrilic. And while modern pictures in books have to do with the story, that was definetly not the case.
He told her as much, as well as the going rate. She seemed quite pleased. Before she headed out however, business took over, "By the way ma'am, I would be more than happy to see about brokering that for you." While business wasn't bad, it wouldn't hurt to have a side option. She smiled, and Bull Rush saw the failure even before she spoke. The smile that said 'please don't hurt me' the smile of every human that he talked to. "Thank you, but no, our family has a good family friend whom we use. But I will keep your offer in mind." She smiled and walked out; he noticed how her feet were much quicker going out than coming in. He really needed to hire someone to run the store. The spirits had ensured that werewolves not be rich. He was going to do his best to prove them wrong.