At the Lamp-Post
You stand in the very heart of Lantern Waste, at the base of the lamp-post that gave this area its name. The clearing here is not particularly large, but there is a strange, almost eerie quality about it. The air is calm — quiet even — as if there is some reverence surrounding the lamp that even the environs respect.
The lamp is lit, casting a warm glow across the glade. Who lit it and how it remains lit is a mystery, but it shows no signs of faltering. To the south, you can hear the distant sounds of flowing water. A faint path leads through the trees to the east and west.
Ayla is seated on her haunches a foot or so from the lamp post, her tail curled around her feet, brown eyes surveying the urban wonder with a sad sort of contemplation. Creatures scurry through the trees around, but the small she-wolf holds her vigil, still and silent, ears pricked forward, no other aspect of her posture displaying any immediate awareness of anything beyond the lantern she has taken up company with.
Lanisen passes through, stepping off the path to enter the forest to the northeast. His eyes settle briefly on the Lamp-post, then avert just as quickly. He slows and stops, catching sight of Ayla, and tilts his head.