Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are fifty firelizards.

Tatia slips in from the Central Bowl.

Deep green is lit with a fire that smolders in the depths of Tatia's eyes, flaring now and then into flames. The intesity of her gaze is eased by the faint fleck of gold that mars the iris of her right eye, catching the light at odd moments. Further paradoxes twine themselves through the 'rider's appearance as a pale complexion smooths over a heart-shaped face, offering a stark contrast to the deep, nearly auburn red of hair that hangs straight and smooth to a spot just above the small of her back. On good days, that is. On bad, it flies in unmanageable tangles, and the 'rider has taken to forcing it into a thick plait in the effort to keep it under control. Both her nose and lips tend to be a little on the thin side - she'd call them 'delicate' - but she manages to hide this fact most of the time with either a bright smile or a withering glare. Her stature forces her to look up to most, refusing to give her the height she might want at times, but her frame is smoothly muscled, testimony to the constant activity life with Vespurath demands. Her movements have begun to hold a hint of the unconscious grace of someone who's nearly always moving.
Midnight sky slides down Tatia's frame in deepest indigo to coat her in the warmth of a summer evening. The leathers creep across legs, fitting well to provide ease of movement. Riding jacket is of the same purple-tinged blue, fitting loosely over her arms and fastening with a row of polished silver buttons. Soft fur edges the cuffs and lines the inside, warmth against the biting chill of ::between::. The midnight of jacket is disturbed by the dance of starbursts, stitched at random along neckline and button line before winding around the hem. The shirt under the jacket is simple, of a softer sky blue that speaks of midsummer's day rather than evening. A dipping 'v' neckline leads into cap sleeves, and the hem ends just low enough to slide over hips . Gloves to match the lightness of the shirt fit snugly and tightly, keeping her grip firm. Boots of a shade even deeper than indigo wind their way up her calves, laced up the side for a tight fit.
Cords dance together, one blue, one black, twining in a single loop as each stuggles for dominance. The opposing colors are threaded together with one of deepest, sage-splattered green, a ribbon that proclaims proudly that Tatia is a 'Reaches greenrider.
She is awake and looks alert.
Tatia is 22 Turns, 6 months, and 17 days old.

Linora takes the long stairway from the crafting area two steps at a time, just barely slowing her headlong progress as she reaches the bottom to something just a bit more civilized as she all but bursts into the caverns. With a quick glance around, just to see who's about, she slips over to the hearth, weaving between tables and chairs, and fills a large mug with steaming broth. Mmmmm.

Tatia enters with a cheery jaunt to her step, though her expression doesn't quite match it. What exactly her expression /is/, however, isn't quite clear, since it's soon obscured by a rather violent sneeze that stops her in her tracks and sends glances toward her from those near her. With a faint from, she rubs at her nose, then moves a bit further in the direction of the food. And more importantly, the tea.

Linora looks up at the sneeze, along with several other people apparently, so probably Tatia won't notice the grin that lights Lin's face as the greenrider approaches the hearth. "Hey, Tat," she greets cheerfully, stepping aside to make room. "Got a cold or somethin'?"

"Or something," Tatia states, sniffling a bit as she moves toward Linora and takes her place at the hearth. "Sharding thing snuck up on me earlier this sevenday, and I feel like I haven't been able to breathe for /months/ now."

Linora nods, clutching her mug with both hands and blowing steam off the top. "Too bad," she says, her tone simple and sincere. "Least it's getting warmer out and stuff. Seen a Healer yet?" Because that would be the obvious thing to do, and Lin's got a good handle on Obvious.

Tatia shakes her head, reaching for a mug of her own. "I keep thinking that it'll clear up on it's own. I just seem to keep sneezing, though." She frowns faintly as the mug is filled with steaming tea, head tilting toward Linora. "How long are you guys here for, again?"

"Another half-Turn or so," Linora replies equably. She's definitely resigned herself to the weather, but she's become noticeably more cheerful with the lengthening days. "The charts gotta have all four seasons, an' we just got here at the beginning of winter." She settles herself in one of the hearthside chairs, kicking off her shoes and tucking her stockinged feet up under her skirts. "You prolly oughtta go t'morrow, if you're still sneezing and stuff," she suggests helpfully. "On accounta they prolly got something that'll help." Or maybe they'll just tell the greenrider to rest for several days. Which would also probably help.

Tatia offers another sigh, which is swiftly followed by a sniff that doesn't seem to do much to help the state of her clogged nose. "I sharding hope so... perhaps I will try, then. I'm rubbing my nose raw with kerchiefs, as it is." Her fingers curl around her mug, absorbing the warmth eagerly. "Well, at least it's getting warm again, eh? Not quite Gar, but.. not snowy, either."

Linora nods eagerly. "I can't wait for summer," she says brightly. Maybe it won't be like Gar, but at least it'll be warm... won't it? She steals a look at Tatia's nose--oooh, it /is/ red!--before quickly returning her focus to her breakfast. Yes, she just got up. "It gets really cold up on the Star Stones an' stuff, even now. It was really bad in the snow and stuff."

Well.. somewhat warm. Tatia still sneaks off to Gar to bathe Vesp, though, which is likely a good indication of just how warm it gets. "I'm sure it was.. riding sweeps isn't all that fun, either," Tatia reponds, nose wrinkling faintly at the thought. "Especially if you get the night ones... suppose it's about like sitting up there peering at the stars."

Linora giggles. "Don'tcha gotta do that anyhow, with Vespurath?" The dragon who likes looking at stars? She takes a long sip of broth at last, closing her eyes as the steam bathes her face, then she shrugs. "I never got flown straight anyplace, anyhow. Between's cold enough." She grins a little and snuggles deeper into her chair, casting a rueful look back to the stairs. It's getting dark, and she knows it.

Tatia rolls her eyes, though she's smiling as she does so. "Aye, we do," she admits, sipping slowly at her drink before blinking at Linora. "Never flown /anywhere/ straight? At all?"

Linora thinks for a minute, her brow furrowing in concentration, then shakes her head. "Ali took me on a tour, ages ago, but it was a bunch of hops Between an' circling over places. Mostly." The little grin returns, almost sheepish this time. "Not like appies rate a lotta dragonrides," she reminds her friend.

Tatia grins, lifting her mug in indication. "Depends on who you know, now doesn't it?" she questions with a swift wink. "And you really ought to get one over the mountains sometime.. it's absolutely incrediable. Breath taking, even. We fly it straight sometimes just for the view."

Linora giggles, then nods. "I s'pose," she agrees, thinking of a number of 'unofficial' visits and conveyances. After another sip of broth she gives Tatia a broad grin. "That'd be fun, if it ain't too cold." A nice view is a Good Thing, but not worth freezing over. Unless one is required to do so, of course. Ahem.

"Well, it won't be soon enough," Tatia points out with another sip of her mug before she frowns faintly, then sighs. "Shards... I've got to go, Linora. Come see me sometime if you want a ride, though."

Tatia goes home.