In the corridors of the Citadel.

[khephera]

She'd been headed for her secret garden in the upper reaches, but somewhere, she'd gotten turned around.  The corridors were no longer smooth sandstone, but were covered in some kind of paper.  It appeared to have coloured moss growing on it.  She trailed her fingers over the patterns.  Leaves, vines, little winged insects.  No, this was some kind

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[homeless_pard]

There was the gentle sound of singing over the sound of the rain. The kitchens, one should note, were labeled today. With flashing arrows. Lacking a still, Khemrys had temporarily claimed the space for her own works...which at the moment meant standing atop the table to hang tea leaves from the rafters, her skirts pooling over the salt shaker and small bowl of...packets...

The song was a vesper, and just because it was to the Cup and Flame did not mean it wasn't a pretty song.

[khephera]

Khephera hears the woman's voice and follows it like a bird follows the gnats to water. She blinks up at the strange blinking signs.

She sees the woman hanging tea leaves (Tea! Something she recognises!) and calls to her quietly.

"Hello?"

[homeless_pard]

She paused, head and shoulders buried up in the festooned rafters. "Hello? If you will grant me but a moment..." a moment to tie the last strings. A moment to untangle a bundle from her hair. A moment to...

Well, it was several moments before she dipped her head to see her visitor. "Fair greeting...are you newly arrived? Has any thought to offer you guest cup yet?"

[khephera]

The woman in grey is wide-eyed, staring up at the bundles of tea leaves. "My mother used to hang her herbs this way. Save she would," she gestures with one hand, "wrap them in gauze, to keep the dust from them."

"Now our tea comes in boxes from the merchant in the market, and it just doesn't taste the same."

"And yes, to answer your question, I am newly arrived, and I'm not quite sure whose hospitality I am begging." Her eyes smile. "I am Khephera."

[homeless_pard]

Khemrys slid gracefully off the table, skirts never managing to flash more than a bare foot before they pooled properly about her legs once more "It would be a fair shame to waste such a gift as tea fields in the morning..." she laughed. This place was capricious, but it had it's kinder moments.

"Forgive my compatriots rudeness." she dipped a curtsy, full and warm "I didst beg of the inn itself, but if that idea puts you ill at ease, i will offer in it's stead?"

[khephera]

"However you best see fit, Mistress," Khephera mirrors the curtsey, though hers is a bit slower, a bit more formal. When she rises, she offers her hands.

"Tell me, does this place have a name, at least?"

It seems important for some reason.

[homeless_pard]

"It has been far and long since any have granted me that title." she took the woman's hands and squeezed gently in happy greeting "I am but a stillmistress and of late a refugee. You may call me Khemrys as you will." she then released the hands to turn t the cupboards.

Finding what she wished was always an adventure. She needed a wine goblet...

"I call it safe, and home for as long as it will have me? I do not know if it has a true name, and if it does none have yet to utter it in my hearing."

[khephera]

"Khemrys," she repeats, cementing the name in her mind. Stillmistress and refugee are details catalogued for future questions, when the time is right. For some reason, this woman feels like a guild sister. She has the energy of the wheel and loom about her that makes Khephera feel very much at home. Her hands undo the veil across her face, tucking it back behind her neck.

"Perhaps we should gift it with a name, in gratitude for granting us shelter, such as it is." In her thoughts, she's already calling it the Inn of Strange Rain.

[homeless_pard]

Ah, she had found a goblet. And a wine flask and the proper herbs were already at hand! She shifted each in turn into the goblet, then turned to present it to Khephera cradled in both hands. "It may seem fair forward on our part to name a place that is ever changing. She chuckled.

"With this cup I grant welcome in this house and to our board. My skills shall be lent to defend you, she supplies to clothe and keep you..." and that was about as much as she could modify the ritual phrasing for a place not her own and them both being women not warriors.

[khephera]

Khephera takes the cup with both hands and bows over it.

"With deepest my gratitude, I offer in exchange the works of my hands, the dances of my feet, the stories from my lips, and the water from my heart. May you never thirst, dear lady."

[homeless_pard]

Khemrys smiled and accepted the bow with as much grace as she could muster. It wasn't the ritual response she was used to, but this was certainly not the Dales. "That aside Lady...do you like tea?" she asked with a grin.

[khephera]

Khephera's smile broadens. "Yes, please."

A cup of tea would go a long way towards centering her thoughts.

[homeless_pard]

"Fair fortunate to have so much on hand then!" She had put out sun tea to brew just after breaking her fast. It was a wonderful nooning drink! (Though certainly a little past noon, and the stronger for it). Khemrys was happy to pour them both mugs, then seat herself lightly upon a nearby stool. A moments rest before going back out to harvest more tea for drying!

[khephera]

Khephera is gingerly smelling, and then tasting the wine in the cup. It is pleasant on the tongue, but she can taste how strong it is. She sips slowly as she watches Khemrys work.

"So dear lady, if I may ask you, how long have you been here?"

[homeless_pard]

Khemrys smiled down at her tea and tried to number the days in her mind "A fair few tenday?" she offered "And a moon, but such does not seem to follow patterns here."

[khephera]

"Yes, nothing here seems to move according to the way I am accustomed." She turns the goblet in her hands, watching the herbs swirl in the liquid.

"Have you met the young man with the beautiful tattoos? He has a garden painted in his skin."