Robert
As the day passed by the trees's shadows would turn and spread over the dusty paths between the in late afternoon sunlight covered buildings. There was a slight warm breeze which caused the shadows to gently dance with the Palm trees.

Two Sandwing's unloaded their wooden cart from a dozen of wooden boxes, each with a sign of fragility marked. One gave the owner of the tavern a small board to sign, which she did with a short pause to check the bills. Obviously when she realised how heavy her orders actually are, those two deliverers were unfortunately already gone. Box for Box she carried up the view stairs to the entrance... But at her third she already had to make a pause, leaning against the couple dozen others- the tower of boxes didn't seem to have changed at all in size. A devastated sigh escaped her snout as her talons already prepared to grab another of these back-pain-makers.
Shirley
Sweltering heat blazed from the sun, the SkyWing, clearly adapted to the conditions, wishing no more than something icy as thirst touched his tongue. Despite the heat, work never waited for anyone and he was sure to persevere through the rest of the day despite a slight fatigue plauging his mind. The dust from the mines stuck to his orange scales and underneath his black claws as he walked in the foreign place, curious and somewhat vaunt of his work.

His eyes met her silhouette against large boxes, taking in the situation for a moment before approaching, worries about his tired nature forgotten.

"Hey-" He said, posture confident, though a shyness showing as he curled his red tail, "Do you need help with those boxes- more talons are better than two," He chuckled lightheartedly at his corny phrase, slightly unsure of what to continue with. Nevertheless, he kept his posture proud and strong and expression calm and friendly.
Robert
The sudden -hey- caught her zoned out as she began to rest her head against one of the boxes. In an instant she jumped to her talons and shook a bit of dust from her braids. 
"Well uhm-" 
She thought about the offer of help- she usually was proudly independent and not befriended with letting others help her with *Her* Tasks... But considering how much effort it took for only three of those dozen- she nodded.
"...If its not big of a bother, id gladly any help. They are quite heavy tho- heh"
With one talon she moved one of her hanging braids back behind her ear, then pointed with her snout towards a view differently signed boxes having a snowflake as a symbol printed on its sides. Her face seemed free from any imperfections, except for a scar running across her snout, which more or less got pointed out even more when it left the shadows.
"-help me with those first, they shouldn't be exposed to warmth for too long"
Shirley
He smiled, showing his teeth as he did so, "Of course!" He replied, readjusting his shoulders as he glanced up toward the work-load, the intricate pattern- a snowflake- visible from his position, snout pointed upward. Before he peered up, he noticed the sharp scar on the SandWing's snout- something he hadn't noticed from his earlier gaze. Scars were something to boast and take pride in for many SkyWing's alike- exaggerated stories filling the echoes of mines before their supervisor told them to shut up- yet he felt no need to probe her on it. There was a job to be done and efficiency was his speciality.

He murmured a reply, with a nod, quickly getting to work as he spread his large wings and approached the sky's reigns- yet only touching sun-tip as he co-ordinated his way down, hovering above the box, quickly readjusting his posture so not to be straining on his spine- and grabbed it with a small heave. It met the ground with a soft thud and he eased his flight. He glanced toward the SandWing for a moment to see if he was correct in his instruction, or rather following.

"There ya go," He chirped, already moving it inside to relax in the shade before the SandWing could put a word in. He shifted it near the entrance then returned, eyes expectant at the work load. His muscles strained from the work- even if low- wearing on him with the mine. A good night's rest would do wonders, but there was still work to be done.

"Should we take the others in together?" He suggested, tilting his head. He was somewhat sheepish he took the first one in on his own despite her word's being 'help' and not 'do' but he quickly flicked away the feeling. "I'll grab the back," He inquired, already off grabbing another with a sturdy, patient smile.
Robert
She sat down at her rear with her head tilted to the side in confusion as she observed how the Skywing lifted the first box yo the view stairs to the wooden veranda of the tavern. She giggled in amuse while crossing her forearms, shaking her head to his quite overreacted help. As the box gently collided with the veranda the wooden planks protested against the weight. Small wind chimes attached to the also wooden roof jingled within the slight breeze.

"Quite impressive, Skywing. I forgot your kind is known well for their strong wings"
Pyramid clapped jokingly before grabbing ahold of the same box as the Skywing did. The Sandwing madam weirdly arranged her rear- definitely not a advantageous position to lift something so heavy, tho surprisingly after the first approach together the Skywing could most likely feel a heavy difference from before. Apparently she was fed well as a kid, which would explain the women's strong grip. 

"-been a while since I've seen a Skywing, especially one thats willing to help a stranger"
Pyramid stood up on her hind legs and pulled get helper towards the stairs. She apparently prefers a faster tho harder way, but it seems she was quite experienced in that, placing her legs steady and using her tail as support. So despite her strength, carrying those boxes on her hind legs must be tiring.
Shirley
He smiled somewhat sheepishly at the compliment, unsure of what to say. "Er- I,, thanks." He said, averting his eyes in perhaps confusion or raw embarrassment as she clapped, even if it was jokingly. Claws digging into the wood and scratching a small mark in its surface, something he hoped she wouldn't mind- or perhaps notice- when examining the boxes later. 'Unkempt,' his mother would scold.

Straightening out his tail, he focused on the present, weight still hefty but definitely lighter from the SandWing's help, the strength he admired. 

As she talked, he glanced up, chuckling at her observation. "I wouldn't have expected travelling to the desert in a million years myself," He began, the cool climates of the mountain ranges inviting as air would sweep under his wings. He snorted at 'willing to help a stranger,' "I'd be willing in sun, rain or snow- though I doubt you get much of the latter here," He chuckled, dedication brimming within his words.

He nearly stumbled over how much faster the SandWing seemed to go, her technique flawed yet fast, something he quickly adapted to, albeit nearly stepping over his own talons a few times. "You run in races before?" He joked offhandedly, lighthearted and compliant with the pace. As they approached a similar place to where the earlier box met the creaking planks, he carefully let go, his muscles open to relief despite the journey of boxes yet to be unpacked.
Amos
Take your time, idm ^^
Robert
"Pff- I bet you rather prefer working during rain than blazing temperatures" She accused him jokingly, placing down their fith box by now on top of the *Pyramid* Of others. For a moment she paused- before dragging one talon down her snout followed by an devastated grunt.

"Eurgh- okay don't flip out... But I may have forgotten that I'll need those boxes inside. They don't make much sense out here" Still somewhat pissed by her sloppy memory she pulled a rope off her chest with a couple big keys attached to them, with which she'd open her tavern- seemingly out of reflex flipping the sign to *Open* Behind the slightly dusty glass. Pyramid already placed her talons around the boxes they have carried up on the veranda, now preparing for a view more sweaty moments for the new destination.

"I wouldn't call that racing in any way- it's more like a part of my childhood training? Dad was a former veteran... Veeery serious about my development. 
He was strict in a caring way... Which more or less helps me handling a bar full of drunken- and sometimes aggressive dragons... Yeah~" She did a lot of gestures with her talons, only underlining her nervousness which seemed to built up than longer it took her to explain that topic.
"...Yep-...Either way, would you mind bit more sadistic work related abuse?" She smirked already feeling her lungs running out of breath. Talking while lifting heavy really ain't doin the job.
"-i promise I'll pay you back with couple free rounds, eventually a meal, if you insist"

The inside of her tavern was different from the outside. A big oval shaped block of sand bricks from the outside- but beautifully wooden crafted floors and walls from the inside. Two staircases led to a second floor, apparently where all the guests rooms where, on the left and right where bricked pillars holding the ceiling and lots of tables- also a billiard table near the bar, which was located at the very back right in the centre.

Despite the dark wooden textured, everything was lighted by a large chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. Couple support chains held a golden construct of several glassy figures- in shapes of many dragons from different tribes -which hang around the candles and seem to reflect and spread their light all over the interiors.
Shirley
He chuckled before sighing, "If only,"

The rain was a great comfort to both he and his sister, despite how uncomfortable others seem to be in it. It was strangely freeing, how raindrops pattered down onto him, sliding down his wing membranes at their full length and the fresh smell, left unchallenged by its mere superiority. He wished it would rain.

"Eh- don't worry about it," He said in slight surprise, unsure of what to say as he tilted his head, curious that she thought *He* Would get angry at wrong adjustments. There was his sister and mother who flickered in his mind, but he ignored the thought, instead focusing on how accustomed she seemed to be at the tavern. Claws gripping on the boxes as they moved forward- or backward, in the SandWing's case. 

He noted her words carefully, *Childhood training,* Something he would shudder at if not for the weight of the boxes. "I get that, 'cept it was my mother in my case. A loyal and fierce soldier for the Queen," He grimanced, battling his expression to be indifferent, "Guess they've got something sturdy about them," He said with a light, forced laugh, trying to find a good thing to say about his mother. *Strict in a caring way,* He rethought her words. He wished he could come to the same conclusion, yet was happy her instances were safe despite her fidgeting.

He barked a laugh. "Oh, I'd *Love* To," His voice swerving with irony, eyes challenging her smile as he spread one wing sideways for a moment for balance, then back to his side. 

"Jeez, you're treating me," He commented at her payment of a meal and a few rounds, and though he was perhaps too polite to accept, the promise of liquor and a full stomach tempted him along, reward promising.

The tavern, surprisingly laid with polished wood flooring and decorated walls- to which he probably should've expected, given the detail she puts in her own appearance. He didn't have much time to observe the staircases, merely gaining a quick glance at the wondrous environment of flicking candlelight and glinting glass.

Once they approached their destination, he put the box down and observed the tavern, a cosiness and warmth built into the features of the place he wasn't sure how to describe, but felt, and was somewhat dismayed at the impatience of the other boxes, still outside and ready to be distributed. "It's beautiful," He murmured, even if he wasn't one for decorations of sorts.
Robert
She was surprised someone experienced something similar to her childhood, it caught her rusty orange eyes on the Skywing. Her chuckles somewhat sounded forced as well- maybe as an approach of loosening things, she could've guessed their mother probably wasn't as understanding and patient how her father was.
"Yeah... Sturdy- those kind of dragons are hard to understand sometimes... No?"

Her claw gently stroke over the ropes of the box, cutting through them to lift the wooden cover from the box. Inside the light reflected in several dark brownish bottles, all carefully wrapped in old newspapers and fabric. She lifted one of them carefully into better lighting, inspecting- probably a bartender thing, as they are the only ones with such knowledge about a dragon's poison.
"I had to help dad at a very young age with the bar... And being honest- it was fun. I learned how to cook from him as well, eventually he showed me a view tricks not everyone knows of"
Pyramid was talking more to herself then, lifting the forts bottles into a shelf behind the counter. At a free spot on the wall- there were a view frames with paintings. One of the dragons shown in those scenes were similar to Pyramid- the other much taller, massive- and painted in scars... But they seemed less formal for a veteran, more happy.

"-Well! I hear the other boxes callin for us! Someone still needs to earn the Honor to open the first of these~"
It would take them more or less the same time to get all those boxes from the veranda beside the counter, each time the dry wood outside seemed to relieve itself with another screeching.
And finally... The last box collided with the pile of its siblings. Pyramid exhaled in relief, brushing a view of her braids back behind her ears again. 
"Okay- I'll sort those in later... I guess it's time for my part of the deal?"

The golden clips on the ends of her braids jingled as the sandwing straightened her posture just to lean against the tavern in a relaxed manner.
"Welcome to Waterfall, the only bar enslaving their costumers for unpaid jobs~"
She giggled. Her voice was noticeably soft in between her deeper tones... And her humorous being seemed much more welcoming to continue a conversation with than with other dragons. Probably a bartender thing as well.
One talon of hers exposed a finger and pointed upwards towards two wooden boards with the menu and possibilities of drinks engraved, a view smaller wooden plates were nailed down beneath- probably newer offers.
"So- choose what you desire. Just not number 23, I'm currently out of lobsters."
Amos
I'll get it done on the weekend, just been tired ^^'
Shirley
"Heh, yeah," He simply said, avoiding her eyes, acting too focused on his work as his claws curled in a little further.

He watched her as she grabbed out the contents of the box, how diligently she seemed to inspect the glass of the bottle- which seemed to Granite just that- a bottle- but she seemed to see further into it, whether it be microns of dust, scratches or even the contents itself, all assessed with a quick look. He made no comment on it, though considered her method positively. 

He chuckled softly at her comments, even if directed more to herself. "I didn't have much help with cooking when young- and it shows," He said a little sheepishly, grimacing at the charred fish he and his sister ate as they tried to conjure something not raw, unlike most meals with a SeaWing guardian. "I can make a wonderful scorched salmon wrapped in seaweed, though, obviously after learning how to not burn everything," He chuckled.

Glancing toward the various paintings, he caught eyes with one of a large, scarred SandWing next to a younger, smaller SandWing. His eyes glinted with a question, and he opened his mouth to speak, yet she was already talking. "Of course~" He dipped his head jokingly and moved along quickly, cheating a quick glance back.

His muscles ached, tired from the long day and scorching heat, but thankful as the last box was reunited.

"Seems like it," He said, showing a toothy smile.

He laughed. "Gotta get them training somehow," He referenced, the warmness of her voice matching that of the room. It was relatively quiet, and he was surprised more of the rowdy dragons, especially his colleagues, hadn't found this place yet. It was afternoon, perhaps stretching evening, giving reason for absence. He preferred the quiet, anyhow- it felt cozy.

"Unfortunate, I tend to prefer seafood. Erhm," He squinted his eyes at the menu. "The lamb roast? I believe number fifteen? I don't mind which drink. Oh- by the way, the name's Granite. Yours?"
Mitchell
Gosh alzheimer kickin
Robert
She thought for a second, not really judging the fact someone wasn't capable of cooking- but more questioning why cooking a salmon was the only thing, her theory got strengthened by another point just as Granite mentioned his preference for sea food. With a snap of two claws, by her elegantly swinging herself to the other side of the bar, she started the topic, which possibly promises her an ongoing, even interesting conversation, so she hoped.
"Raised by a Seawing!"
Pyramid stated while reaching out for a glass, standing in line among its dozen of comrades on the neatly polished shelves, before turning her head back towards her guest.
"-stop me if I'm too personal, but I bet you've had a Seawing parent! It's known for them to always have the urge teaching everyone about their culture- at least from what I've heard~"
Despite the glass seeming polished and cleaned to perfection, she rubbed a towel over it anyways before reaching under the counter and placed something transparently cube-shaped into the glass before adding an orange piece, sliced in a spiral shape and finishing the process by opening the first bottle of many which are the cause for their back pain. She slid the drink across the counter and it stopped just perfectly before Granite's talons. How often she must've gone through that process that she performed each step without taking her eyes of her guest? And then so precise as well- truly someone that lives for their job.
"...So since you're into the Seawing kitchen, I could offer you calamari in well seasoned oils and with in butter roasted garlic bread. Of course- you can also combine that with your lamb roast"

Pyramid already started prepare every tool she needed, also including washing her talons over the sink(ofc old model, not industrial yk) - even using possible soap? Definitely smelled like soap. It was a rare sight dragons- especially Sandwing cooks washing their talons before preparing a meal. So as she shook off her talons and walked towards the back of the bar, on her hint legs again- not to defile her talons, she checked a small steel oven built into the wooden construct, opening a small gate to fuel the already burning fire with more oxygen. 
"Granite, suits the dust on your talons~"
She giggled softly, apparently only speaking when holding eye contact with someone, or at least not turning her back towards them. Another possible trace of her father's education?
"I'm Pyramid, nice to make the acquaintance"
The ember eyes spoke.
Amos
I'll try finish it tomorrow it tonight but dw I've already got it started! ^^
Shirley
Startled by her too-accurate discovery- something he kept private, he almost fell out of his seat, awkwardly flapping his large wings to try to balance his clumsy self. Regaining his balance, his wide eyes followed her as she grabbed a glass and continued to speak. 

"Oh- erh, yeah," He admitted shyly, the answer shut off from any further discussion. There was no point in lying now- he had obviously spilled too much when he was just trying to make conversation. Granite always felt so oblivious and stupid whenever he made such mistakes, this time being no exception. "It's abit of a long story," He began, trying to seem like it was terribly boring as he scratched the back of his neck, glancing back to seem like he had places to be, which was entirely false. 

Why did he have to mention anything? He should've just shut up and accepted the food, or better yet, leave with a nod and a flap. He felt so *Cornered* With the grief that tried to mangle its way to the surface. *Say something. Do something. Leave.* But he was silent. Did nothing. Stayed. He instead sought a distraction, keeping his eye keen on how she worked, the movements as if they were practised thousands of times before. It was, admittedly magnificent, unsure of how she didn't trip over her own tail as the drink was slid across, the smell of alcohol enticing his senses.

He almost winced at the familiar foods being offered, unknowingly making a pained expression. "Yeah- uhm- I'd rather just the lamb roast th-thanks for the offer though." Embarrassment touched his snout, though he offered an awkward smile despite the warring thoughts in his head. *What* Was that stutter? Granite somewhat wished he had the strength of Azurite's voice, but he doubted that would do him well in the long run, let alone a short while. He took a small swig of the drink, hoping the embarrassment would dull as drowsiness would inevitably take effect.

Granite watched in amazement as she seemingly glided across the kitchen, even taking in account of washing her hands - a practice he seldom saw amongst his miner colleagues. There was no use in wiping your talons either - it being guaranteed to get more soot to later on eat, should you choose to eat that way and not with purely teeth. It almost made him feel like this was some fancy place, though for her this was most likely the bare minimum as she shifted around. 

He laughed lightly at the mention of his dusty talons, smiling warmly as she spoke to him, holding his eyes, "Of course~" He replied, matching her tone as best he could, "How" - he thought of the word - "Quaint to meet you in such circumstances," Granite giggled, unable to keep a straight face when speaking like nobility.

Curiosity peaked his eyes. "How exactly did you gather all these skills? It's almost as if you were born with 'em- I couldn't imagine tryna dance let alone cook with wings this clumsy."
Robert
A giggle left her snout, a pure one- not those that Granite was probably familiar with. She didn't mention his obvious startled reaction, since she started questioning herself if she was scaring her guests away again.
"I like long stories~ it's a pleasure to know that some dragons that come through my doors are living individuals as well- not only costumers.

You don't have to of course~ stating who you are isn't included in my house rules"
The Sandwing reassured with another soft smile, then lifting her ears in surprise that he decided to decline her offer. She thought she guessed his taste just right- but oh well, can't change what a stomach desires.
"No probs~ your order is in progress!"
By now she knew he was scanning her movements, keeping that awareness to herself with a continuing smile as she opened a trapdoor in the floor- an odd cold breeze tickling Granites talons just as long before the door was let shut after Pyramid pulled out a chunk of- pretty stiff looking meat. A view opened and closed drawers later the Sandwing was wielding pans over the oven, shortly followed by the popping of another bottle and then the sparkling roasting. So she used a gentle amount of wine to roast the meet with, something professional she definitely had to learn from someone. While chopping a view other ingredients she continued the conversation by answering his question pretty openly.
"Oh~ so you thought I looked like dancing? Hm, that's sweet.
Well, I wouldn't consider being born with those skills- I was more of a quick learner."
The quick chopping of the knife was similar to dozen of pickaxes smashing down on the stone one after another, a quick chain reaction followed by the sparks the metal caused, but the knife chopping had a much more subtile tone within.
"As mentioned before- my dad was the source of all this. He thought me cooking as well- since he was the former owner of this place... I think I managed to keep his spirit and passion up just alright-"

She paused for a moment, either thinking or concentrating on her work-
"I've heard those 'clumsy wings' were capable of beautiful manoeuvres in the air tho. Being good in one thing but inexperienced in another doesn't justify your clumsiness"
Amos
YOU CANNOT JUST PRODUCE ART LIKE NOTHING
Nathan
Huh tf u mean with art
Shirley
He blinked at her giggle. Was he being humorous? His tail curled around his hind leg, a fade of red his sister also held, although with Azurite it was orange. 
He lightly chuckled, finding her point of view interesting and unique. He wanted to think like that, to view another dragon as a life with a differing experience instead of red scales and soot that was dragged along their face, as well as the tired, heavy eyes.

"Tch- uh- thanks," He repeated meekly, even though he probably should've set the boundary himself. He noted the surprise in the slight lift of her ears. She had guessed his taste right- too right, in fact. Ironically, he felt it would hurt too much to smell, let alone taste something so familiar and comforting. Something that lingered so close to grief. Her chirpy voice broke his dread as he thought of his guardian. 

Granite's snout wrinkled slightly at the sight of the meat. Granite couldn't deal with the scent of blood - something he didn't smell currently, yet was always laughed at. He shrugged of his colleagues jokes with a grin, and at a point couldn't blame them. The sound of fat crackling on the pan enticed his ears, tilting his head slightly as she poured a gracious amount of wine into it. How she worked- it was almost as if she had animus magic. 

"I'm sure of it~" He teased, "Are you sure you're not covering somethin' up?" Granite raised a brow playfully, tail flicking around like an entertained, pampered dog. 

The knife was like music to his ears - strange music, but music nonetheless, his ear flicking forward.

"I agree," He smiled, glancing around at the coziness of the place - the soft murmur of voices in the background, the soft glow of candle light and the sizzling of meat on the pan.

Taking a swig of his drink, he chuckled lightly, eyes considering as he thought of her statement. "I 'spose so," He began, a burning sensation going down his throat, the after tang of the alcohol, allowing him to gain the courage to speak more about his upbringing, "Yet I never went out much as a youngin', kept in a cave most of the time. But the brief moments we were allowed out," He sighed, reminiscing. "That. Was freedom."

Granite basked in the sun as he was absorbed into the infinite blue of the skies, wings outstretched and aspirations as far as he could see. Soft blankets of cloud brushed his talons as he flew above, shaping the clouds as he twirled, still young with the illusion of freedom.
Nathan
Just reminding myself for later
Robert
Sunbeams which were earlier blazing through the colourful windows of the tavern slowly began to change their position, happening to lose their brightness with each minute that passed- tho one minute felt like eternity in this place, and at the same time time passed by as if it was sand corns in a breeze. The quiet chattering became less, as other guests started to leave, some coming, but less and less until only a handful of dragons were spending peaceful moments, each in their own corner either reading scrolls, the news, chattering with their companion, or drinking themselves to the realm of dreams. Pyramid observed his dreamy state for a view moments- she always wondered if she had animus magic, if it'll be possible to view the memories of others. What beauty have other dragons seen? And how much of it can be described in words? 

With a *Clonk!* A plate of smoothly polished massive wood was placed before him. A sudden scent of freshly cooked meat tickling his nose, several ingredients and herbs raising the smell hypnotically to his nostrils. The Sandwing must've thought about his talons being covered in the cave's dust, so she cut the meat in bite-sized pieces and stacked with roasted vegetables in between on metal skewers, which had comfortable handles at the bottom.

"Since you're so often deep down away from the sun- I thought I'll give you some rich vegetables."

She softly smiled, also thinking about giving him a tissue just in case- in form of an origami dragon? 

"What should I be covering up btw~? Some- ✨extraordinary animus dancing skills✨? Heh... I wish... If I'd be half as good in dancing as I'm cooking- I bet I wouldn't be the boring dragoness on every bal..."

After refilling his glass one last time she turned to clean the small kitchen, carrying all supplies to the sink before walking all the way around the counter. *Freedom* She thought *Am I even living freedom?*

"I'll tell the other guests I'm slowly closing- which doesn't mean u have to eat with haste! U better enjoy it or I'll be insulted"

She chuckled before wandering off to the tables.
Shirley
The dish hitting the table woke Granite up from his dream, but just as he was woken he pulled under by the intoxicating smell of roast lamb. He hadn't smelt something this good since his guardian was alive, his wings relaxing against his sides as he took it in. He took hold of one of the skewers, lifting then stabbing it into a piece of meat, eating a few vegetables at the same time he slid the meat off with his teeth. The meat well-done, as he preferred against his colleague's medium rare taste, the warmth making his mouth content. 

"Mm, thank you," He said, glancing up at Pyramid from his plate. 

He chuckled mid-chew, putting his talons over his mouth to prevent her seeing it. Swallowing, he began, "Oh please, you're probably just not confident in dancing," He said, somewhat ignorantly but without vain, "You must be confident in cooking though, it's said in the your posture. You dance while you cook, you just don't realise it."

He nodded in acknowledgement as she poured another glass, hoping he didn't seem too greedy. 

Granite nearly spat out his food as he controlled a laugh at her words, enjoying the sass she effortlessly provided. Carefully finishing his meal, his red tail carefully swayed from side-to-side as he appreciated the food, carefully tasting each flavour, relishing in the cozy atmosphere of her bar. Finishing the last of his drink, the subtle buzz of alcohol took effect - not enough to hinder his frame or speech, but enough to make his eyes relax.