"I cannot tell if hell is fiction or non fiction." That was a realm that even the head of Non Fiction could not answer. Those were matter that were beyond his scope, complicated by realities, believes, and other matters that bored the feline.

His ears flattened slightly as the Cat crouched down, waiting for the human to attack. Some treated his chosen form with respect while others saw cats as something to torment. Tail lashing, he slowly relaxed when he realized Owen wasn't going to harm him. "You are in the Library. The pixies escaped from a book in another section and need to be put back before they do even more damage."

Tipping his head to one side, he almost looked amused as he studied Owen. "If you have the ability to talk, why wouldn't I?"