Who in their right mind would be up at this hour? For some weyrfolk and even riders, it's not a strange occurrence. The kitchen staff are already awake and working, though the majority of the breakfast fare has yet to be served. Just the necessary staples, fresh klah included, are set out but there are few souls here as it is. It is from this lack of crowding, that Divale has chosen to linger here long enough to nurse a mug of klah. She's still dressed in her heavier riding gear, fresh from the last of her patrols and looking to warm up a little before she's due to report in when the shifts change over at a more reasonable hour. For now, she leans forwards in her seat, elbows braced against the table while she idly traces her fingers along the rim of her mug. Her eyes, shadowed with exhaustion of one needing to sleep soon, are distant; she's lost in her own thoughts.

You know those people, the ones who are absolutely insufferable morning people? Yeah, that would describe Zaria. Darting in from the Central bowl, wearing her riding jacket for warmth, she scrubs her hands together and blows into them a little bit before smiling at a passing drudge, "Winter huh? That cold is so bracing!" The drudge kind of gives her a sidelong look before moving on. Even for the usually amiable bluerider, there may be a little more of a pep in her step this sevenday. Making her way over to the klah, she pours herself a mug and tops it off with a dash of milk as her hazel eyes wander the almost empty caverns. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for the brownrider, this makes Divale stand out like a beacon and that's who she makes her way towards now. "Morning, or almost anyway. Mind if I sit?"

Most would take one look at Divale and probably steer clear unless they had business with her. Even as Parhelion's Wingscond, she's developed enough of a reputation and holds a certain aura about herself that gives enough warning. Then there are the few who either know her enough to ignore it… or don't care to heed the signs. Her gaze lifts on Zaria's approach, old habits drawing her out of her "daydreaming" though the tension leaves her shoulders almost immediately on recognition. "You're up at an odd hour. Is Arroyo facing early drills?" she asks dryly, her expression neutral. Her hand, pausing in it's circling of the rim of her mug, lifts to flick to the empty seats; the invitation is accepted and silent permission offered in turn.

Taking a seat once the brownrider accepts, Zaria props her elbows on the tabletop and holds her mug aloft clasped in her still cold reddened hands. The bluerider falls in the first category of people, used to the gruff nature of Parhelion's Wingsecond. "Not really," she replies with a shrug of her shoulders, "Just headed to the archives early to get a jump on some reports that keep piling up for some reason. I'm not a late sleeper most days, like to get up and get going." Inhaling deeply the spicy aroma of the klah, she sighs blissfully before taking a sip.

"Sounds like a delightful start of the day," Divale's tone is heavily laced with sarcasm but there's a hint of bemusement threaded through and even a slight tug at the corner of her mouth. She almost smirked! Leaning back in her chair, she'll hold her mug between her hands for the time that it takes her to study Arroyo's Wingleader. There's no shame in it, from her and she makes no effort to hide the fact that she's giving the other woman a searching look. Yet she says nothing and makes no hint to any conclusion of her thoughts; instead, she merely smirks to herself and takes a quiet sip of her drink. Not surprisingly, the brownrider is not overly talkative… yet.

"Hidework's never fun. But if I can get it off my plate the day is a lot less stressful," Zaria admits with an casual shrug of her shoulders before taking another long sip of the hot liquid, eyelids droopign closed as she savours the rich flavours and lets the warmth course through her. "Mmmmm…nothing like it on a cold morning," she murmurs a bit before lifting her eyes back to Divale, blinking in surprise to find the brownrider staring so intently at her that a rosy blush blooms over the bridge of her nose and she quickly drops her gaze for another sip. "So….Parhelion doing well then?" Time for nervous small talk!

Divale keeps her gaze level to Zaria's, regardless of the woman's blushing and only glances down after she speaks in reply. "There are many ways to warm up but I suppose this'll do." Her tone remains dry and with her deadpan expression, it's anyone's guess what she meant. Was she joking? Hinting at something? Commenting on the flavour of the klah? Could be one or all! Nervous small talk is like the scent of blood to a predator. Divale's interest is piqued now but not for reasons that the bluerider might hope for. "Well enough. We are kept busy, despite the lull the cooler seasons generally bring." The sigh she voices next is quiet but sounds disappointed. "Nothing eventful even on my last patrol. Reporting to Eala later today will be so dull."

Sputtering when Divale's first sends Zaria's mind to the Pernese equivalent of the gutter, the bluerider barely manages to not make a mess of herself as she lowers the mug to the table and pulls a hanky from her pocket to dab at her lips as she coughs a little more, "Sorry, went down the wrong way." It's a totally lame excuse, she knows it, but at least it gives her the illusion of saving face. Putting the litle square of cloth away again, she nods in agreement with the brownrider about the cold making things a little duller. "I guess it's harder to justify mischief in this cold when all you want is to keep warm. But dull isn't all bad for us…the Weyr I mean," blushing intensifying, "Dull means safe as well." she finishes before looking back up at the brownrider.

"Mhm." Divale hums low in her throat in agreement. "An unfortunate side effect when one is flustered," She smiles a small, wolfish, smile and gives away that she's aware that Zaria's mind went to one path alone. It amuses her to push people and the bluerider never fails to deliver! "Perhaps not, for the Weyr but for me, I become restless. I do not enjoy being idle and I am not one to sit and do tedious record-work." That's not to say she won't, because she has to given her rank but anything more than required? No, Divale will pass on it if she can. Her lips curve into a cynical smile for Zaria's last and she'll bluntly mutter over the rim of her mug as it's raised up for another sip. "No one is ever safe. That is just a blanket comfort." Leave it to her to be so highly pessimistic but that comes as part of the package with the brownrider; it just takes time to learn to brush it aside.

Oh great, not the blush spreads onto the apples of her cheeks and Zaria can even feel her ears burning from Divale's tease. She tries to brush it off with a roll of her eyes to indicate she knows that the brownrider is pushing her buttons, but there's something about Divale that always gets under her skin and this time is no different. Why does she keep interacting then? That's the real mystery. Her pessimisstic attitude is met with a scoff and a sharp tilt of her head and she, in turn, gives the brownrider a good once over. "I wish I knew what made you look at life through such a dark lense…" the bluerider mutters absently before hazel eyes widen considerably as she realizes she said that aloud and just drops her head as her face goes as red as a redfruit. Another sip of klah whould fix everythign right?

Definitely the real mystery! Zaria's resolve does impress Divale, though she doesn't show it. She keeps expecting the woman to storm off or call her out, something other than take what she throws despite the obvious unease. A brow quirks for the scoff and the change in attitude, but it only serves to show her that her mark hit point. She smirks in turn… and relents a little. Maybe she feels the bluerider deserves that much? Lowering her mug so that it rests closer to her lap and cradled safely between her hands, she levels Zaria with a long look. "It's best you don't." she answers cryptically, but with an edge in her voice. "Be grateful of your ability to see good in life. You'll find no answers studying me, aside from words of warning and the understanding that I am who I am."

"I would never pry Divale, you should know that by now at least," Zaria replies with a tremulous sigh before she lifts her eyes to looks at the brownrider through ginger lashes, "I am grateful for it. Cause it lets me see the good in you." Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper as she blinks at the brownrider, swallowing hard at the lump in her throat. "Shard it! I completely forgot a meeting I made with my wingsecond. I'm going to be late." Without looking anymore at Divale, she takes her mug and practically runs towards the corridor leading to the inner caverns, just thankful that the Living Caverns are so quiet at this time of morning.