The room isn't very big in width, but it's very high - maybe about 20, 30 feet? How are the bookshelves even managing to stay up?

There are a few glass bottles sitting on Sibnele's desk. They look like they might be alcohol, but you never know.

Two comfy-looking chairs are by the fire.

I quietly make my way to the fireplace and climb up the mantel and look at the room from a different angle.

Ooh, it's nice and warm up here.

Facing Sibnele, you can see several stacks of old-looking paper sitting to his left. Some might have writing. Another glass bottle is in his hand; maybe he's asleep out of his drunkenness.

The books lining the shelves look just as old as the papers - some even look to be falling apart. There's no ladder to reach the books higher up, so Sibnele must just fly to get them.

I sighed another lizard sigh before laying down and falling asleep.

Some time passes, maybe half an hour.

You are awakened to the sound of shattering glass, followed by the sound of Sibnele tumbling backwards whilst swearing loudly.

I make a squeaky noise and jump before realizing what it was and sighing again before laying my head back down.

Looks like Sibnele had dropped the alcohol in his sleep, breaking the bottle.

He sits back down at his desk, sighing. Grabbing the top sheet from the paper stack, he reads it lazily. His face is flushed, a sure sign that he is still drunk.

I watch intently my scales like a chameleons shifted to match the mantle.

Sibnele puts the sheet of paper flat on the desk. Groaning, he plops his head in his hands. "I really need to stop drinking," he mutters. He tries to stand up, but only falls back into the chair.

I keep still but my worry makes my scales turn blue. I curse silently hoping he didnt see me.