Nerves on high and apprehension in your step, you squirm your way over to the librarian, his desk cutting you down to size as it stands just over your head. He remains expressionless and mostly motionless as you approach. Why does everyone have to judge me?
"S-sir?" You squeak pathetically. "Do you have—maps here?"
His voice has the tone and crunch of falling rocks. "Maps of what?"
"Maps of—Apricot Bay?"
Still expressionless, he slips away for a moment, rummaging through things on a shelf you could never hope to reach. He comes back with a tiny, glossy pamphlet. "There should be one in here."