Hildegarde was active tonight. Perhaps it was because of impulses borne of her trial and tribulation upon the stake; perhaps its was the blood of the impressionable young man she had encountered at a jazz club she had visited recently; perhaps it was her need to do something for a change; whatever the origin of her sudden desire, it had manifested as an pressing need to hit the library and study.
Properties of the Blood.
The Lord had found desk space and a neat stack of texts lay close at hand, positioned with the deliberate care as dictated by the posture she found herself sitting in. Not the for the first time, she found herself idly wondering if she was more mannikin than real person. As usual, the ill formed thoughts found themselves filtered to the back of her mind. Tonight, she sought other answers.
Properties of the Blood.
The library, it appeared, did not have a specific focus on the Blood. Her chosen topic was broad, however, and spilled over into other fields - fields that the library was more than adequately provisioned for. All that was required was a little comparative study to draw out the conclusions she sought. The texts she had collected for the night's study was impressive, but it only account for a tiny portion of what the library was capable of providing.
Properties of the Blood.