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	[u]Weather[/u]: The utter bitterness of the night has finally given way to the merely freezing cold of the morning. Snow no longer falls in the growing light of the morning, but it is so overcast that the sun is more of a broad assertion than a direct, line-of-sight orb burning in the heavens. 

   	[u]Time[/u]: The darkness has passed, for the most part, and we find ourselves in the early morning, sometime just following first light.   

	[u]Ambience[/u]: It is a little bracing this morning inside of the Coach House, at least in comparison to the evening before. If the same metric is applied to the outdoors, then the taproom of the Coach House is a veritable paradise of warmth and vigor. Fine (if plain) smells of cooking and cookfire accent the area within, giving notes of simmering starch and toasted nut. 

	Out among the grounds of the Rose River Vineyard, a dull but alabaster-vibrant countryside stretched out as far as one may see from the top of the stairs. A couple lines of smoke dotted from a chimney here, a chimney there, but for the most part the overcast, grey morning bore light yet sharp winds and a promise of snowfall which was here to stay unless displaced by shovel or other physical means. The tops of the grape vines which stretched across hill after hill were mostly visible, though drifts did tend to drift and the laden lines upon regular posts formed marginally effective places for snow to pile upon itself. 

	The accumulation of snowfall seems lessened around the Estate House, likely on account of a lack of natural barriers and the fact that it all sat atop a tallish hill. This does not leave a differing spot in the waves of pastoral white, rather simply demonstrates the advantages of surveyed dwelling development. But getting to the structure, or any other for that matter, looks to become a trying task indeed. One may inquire into the likes of the company's handy man, as there is a rather disrupted line in the otherwise smooth and unblemished snowscape. 

[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center] 
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	[color=darkgray]"Good morning!"[/color] responded Lizbeth cheerfully. Kat had been the first to rise, as they had intended, and so she addressed her knightly mentor first. [color=darkgray]"Oh yes, I do hope that one day, you won't have to hold back when we train."[/color] She seemed a little excited at the prospect, but stifled back the lion's share of her giddiness. [color=darkgray]"You're welcome for breakfast,"[/color] she said curiously, [color=darkgray]"It's just oat porridge, really. Do they not feed Knights? Or Adventurers?"[/color] Whomever the enigmatic "they" might have been, the concept seemed to truly puzzle the girl.

        The entrance of Victoria into the taproom had Lizbeth greeting her with smiles and the offering of a bowl, which she was pleased to see was accepted. [color=darkgray]"Good morning, Mademoiselle Belmont!"[/color] she greeted, again with a youthful, cheerful disposition. Seeing the raven manifest brought on a longing sort of empathy, altering said disposition quickly as she confessed, [color=darkgray]"I really wish I could do that..."[/color] Luckily, the change was temporary. Victoria was also a mentor, of sorts, or a cousin, even if Lizbeth couldn't place why. But even this feeling of camaraderie gave way when she mentioned the word [i]Prince[/i]. It did not get any better when the Half-Elf described her dreams. Lizbeth attempted to stifle a shudder and turned her head away, presumably to get back to her self-assigned duties.

        There wasn't much interaction with Kosara beyond the initial pleasantries of the morning, but she did beam a polite, [color=darkgray]"Oh, thank you!"[/color] when the aromas of breakfast were described as [i]amazing[/i]. Lizbeth steered very clear of the conversation as soon as the Tiefling lady asked if she was missing something. 

        Personal dialogue was also not amazingly entered into, and Lizbeth could see why. She didn't placate with ante meridiem greetings nor ask how his night went, she immediately dropped farther into the role of a caretaker, sliding a cup of steaming tea with honey under his face and handing him a bowl of hot oats. Following this, Lizbeth handed him a cleaning rag with hadn't been used that day, and apologized, [color=darkgray]"It isn't a handkerchief, but you can keep it if you want. And before I forget..."[/color] Lizbeth motioned to the brooch and scabbards on the table, [color=darkgray]"Master Urmdrus left these for you! I'm not sure how he got through all the snow, but, maybe they will help you feel better!"[/color]

        Attempting to delve into something upcoming rather than dwell, Lizbeth asked the table as a whole, [color=darkgray]"So after we finish our morning training,"[/color] this part obviously aimed at Kathryn, [color=darkgray]"how's everyone spending their day?"[/color] Yes, there were obviously evil things afoot and yes, creatures most foul roamed the lands, but Lizbeth didn't seem quite as bothered about this as she might be. Instead it was a whirl of adventurous possibility, even if some of these included rigorous study and labor, which she was hopefully girding the party for with a hot meal and cheerful send-off.