"I did rather wear you out yesterday," she says softly, her tone slightly apologetic. "How are you feeling?"

She snatches the pan with the figs off of the fire before 'caramelized' becomes burnt. Today's chiton is a dark blue with flower patterns in white. She's pulled most of her hair up in a bun on top of her head, secured it with large bronze pins stuck into it in strategic places, but some of it has already escaped those confines.