Building a Setting (a.k.a. "I Love WritingFix.com!")

An interesting place that would make a story more interesting:

A cave - limestone (I think). There are dripping stalactites and weird-shaped stalagmites. An uneven path meanders off into the shadows. There is an other-worldly glow from an unknown source (phosphorescent rocks? "light sticks?"). It reflects in the pools of murky water scattered about the vast underground [aren't they all underground?] cavern. The cave walls are a rich mixture of oranges, browns and yellows [so maybe this is sandstone?].

What do your senses say about the place? That is, what do you smell, taste, hear, etc.?:

There earthy scent of wet stone permeates the air, which fills your mouth with a seemingly musty taste as you breathe it in. Despite the vastness of the cavern, echoed in the sounds of distant drips of water, there is an almost claustrophobic feeling from the clammy chill that surrounds you.

Describe what one character in this setting does or notices:

The explorer is breathing somewhat hard after having slid down a shaft into this cave. Her breath is temporarily taken away by the vastness of the space revealed to her by the light coming from [?]. She slowly but nervously looks around her, afraid of not being able to take in all the beauty of the formations and colors surrounding her. It is as if she is seeing it in a dream that could vanish from her in an instant.

What is the mood of the story? Describe it for the reader: [The heck with it - inspiration has hit!]

The vast expanse came to life in front of her very eyes. Ancient stalactites slowly, rhythmically dripping water into the dark pools below. As she regained her breath, she could feel the close dampness seep into her bones. She could tell from the strange, echo-y drip, drip, drip that she was only just beginning her journey out of network of caves she had fallen into. There would be no going back up that steep slope. Not without some rope and a grappling hook, anyway. She picked up a piece of wood from the rotting timber that had helped to land her here, and held her lighter to it. As it smoldered into inky soot, she took stock of herself and her belongings.