Closed Food for the soul.

[Ssafiracitlali]

40 Winter 515 AV, food for the soul.

It was just after the seventeenth bell, and night was well on her way to darkening the city as Citlali made her way through it, dropping a deeper and heavier cold over the place and driving the poor dhani further into her cloak, which even heavy as it was didn't seem to properly ward off the winter's chill.

The dhani woman had just departed some other establishment, with a name she couldn't read and couldn't understand, having just bought some unpleasant liquid food that still radiated scorching heat in her stomach and that left her throat and mouth burning hot. It was hotter than the jungle, than the steam baths in the belly of Zinrah, and the flavour of the fluid was unimaginably overwhelming, so much so that she was still struggling with coming to terms with the sensation.

In the heart of Citlali's disgust and discontent with this place, she longed to go home so she may regale her people with the stories she could weave of it. If she told them of the cold winter, the way water froze to make a surface one could walk upon, or even what strange animals they had here, Citlali would be famous. She could move proudly through the dark tunnels of her home and be warm, feel full, and be lavished upon as a constrictor as she was should be.

But first, she had to survive the place, and as she entered Traveler's Row and she, coloured by the cold and hair windblown, was stunned in place by the light and the heat and still more so the uncomfortable sight of so many legged people here.

[Elann]

.

Evening was when Elann was heading home from work. So many times previous had she come and gone from the Elegant Weave, the shop in town that made clothing and fabrics, and this day hadn't been to apart from the others. The subtle differences in the days growing colder wouldn't seem to bother some, but in her eyes it was horrible and continued only to get worse. The snow would not stop falling, causing the travel to and from work to take a bit longer than what was expected; the animals had gone crazy and essentially attacked the city a short while ago; and now it seemed the entire city had gone soup crazy, having each restaurant and tavern boasting about their best concoction.

While Elann enjoyed Syliran food to a degree, and was even brave enough to try the soups, she preferred her own cooking. It was simple, it filled her up, and it had the right kind of spices in it to make it not seem bland, but not overpower you. Here it was as if they didn't know how to work with the spices except for salt and pepper. There was so much more than that. Tromping through the snow as quickly as she could, she could see that some random woman entered the building just mere moments before she did. Catching the door as it began to close, Elann swung it back open as though the wind had caught it, and hopped inside.

A short silent squeal and a stomp of her fur trimmed boots was a display of a full bodied shiver. Reaching behind her, she quickly closed the door and let out a sigh of disgust. There, behind what was a fur-trimmed cowl, were two glimmering otherworldly eyes of a Benshira. Blue and oceanic green irises scanned the room set underneath a bed of hazelnut brown hair. Small fur mittened hands reached up and pulled the cowl down under Elann's chin, revealing a rather pretty woman with slightly tanned skin; clearly not a denizen of Syliras by birth. Seeing Ssafiracitlali still in the doorway, she moved slightly to her side and stood there, looking at the others in the small lobby.

"It's sooo cold," she voiced with another shiver. Her Benshira accent seemed present, but was behind somewhat fluent common. It seemed to be directed at Citlali who was the only logical person she would be speaking to at the moment. This was confirmed as Elann glanced her way.

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