The Ziadi on the cliffside city were still hard at work; at dawn they'd wake and burst into life, sweeping, washing, clearing debris, repainting shutters on their newly washed or replaced windows. Zeke was seen occasionally, freshly washed and redressed himself, wandering the stairs to help others, gathering his own crew of young men and a few women who weren't entirely sure what to do in regards to keeping busy. He set them to work, clearing the many flower beds along the cliffs to be replanted, mending furniture, carrying crates up or down. 

By the time sunrise had come, the whole cliff side was illuminated in the golden light. Flavoured smoke rose from many of the homes, the largest from the messhalls, as people went to work on feeding their families and those without. On the southern side, where the Ziadi resided, Ruli was in charge of the cooking, busy and sweating as he bent over the low-burning flames. He juggled flatbread, scrambled eggs, a skillet of spices, vegetables, and crumbly sausage, and a small pot of some sort of orange-hued sauce. He didn't look up when Kire walked in, too preoccupied with making sure his eggs mixed right as he poured it into the vegetable skillet. 

It wasn't until he caught her from the corner of his eye that he did glance up, pausing in his work. He stared for a minute, recalling the moment last night when, half asleep and cold, he'd rolled to seek her body warmth and felt what could have been disappointed to find his bed empty. "Morning." He said simply and safely. He gestured to his cooking. "Nearly done. They're cooking something else on the otherside. Something elven. So." Ruli shrugged, offering her a bit of the warm flatbread, which smelled deliciously of garlic and melted cheese.