The green one looks down at their long toes and tries not to look pleased. "It is a privilege to work here," they nod, "and you are welcome to the tomes any time you wish, if it is allowed." they too pick a book from a shelf--it is filled with paintings of forests and trees and clouds and bright blue skies. Each one shimmers and dances as though made from magic--which they probably are--and seem to breathe.