Relative silence was just what Archimedes needed. After years of debating, discussing, writing and rewriting, he was just about ready to publish his work. Well, not he himself, anyway; it would be quite odd for a barn owl to publish a book on a political system that would be run by man. But it wouldn't matter who or what was going to publish his writings if he didn't finish editing the manuscript!
So, perched upon one of the desks in the library, Archimedes flipped through the loose pages of his work, checking for errors of any sort; spelling mistakes, stray commas, everything had to be just so. One could call the barn a bit of a perfectionist, but when you were going to publish something that would be seen as ludicrous, radical, or even anarchist, having as little errors as possible was somewhat of an essential. With a sigh, Archimedes took his quill in his talons, and freed the current page of a few stray commas. Well, at least I'm not filing mother's taxes