Mobius, for his part, looks overall scruffier than he ever usually lets himself get. The moustache is as tidy as it can be, but even that's got little bits of unevenness, hard to tell unless you're looking. He's wearing gloves, slim, dark brown, but it is getting cold out, so that might not be unusual. There's a necklace dangling from his neck, tucked under his shirt but the string of which can still be seen coming up above it.

He looks, to someone who might have a very keen sense of these things, a little older and a little more tired.

He sighs, lets his shoulders dip, then motions with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, come on." And a point: "Either bring the book with you or put it on the counter to reshelve."

And without looking back to see what Loki does, he marches on out of the library. Where exactly they're going to go, he isn't sure. Up on the battlements? Even on a sunny day, it's a bit nippy for that sort of thing. There might be space, now, in the area claimed by Research. Quiet corner of the dining hall? His feet seem to be taking him in that direction without much conscious thought anyway.

"A few days, you said."