overhearing


South Side of the Caldron Pool
Lantern Waste
Northwestern Narnia


Drune pads along the path with his nose to the ground, heading in the direction of the meadow.

Lanisen comes along the path from the south, his satchel over his shoulder, heading toward the pool.

Drune’s nose wrinkles as he picks up another scent. He pauses and looks up, eyes falling on Lanisen. He doesn’t call out though, choosing to observe for the moment.

Lanisen adjusts his satchel and rubs his shoulder absently. He continues on, his attention on the trees, and cranes his neck to look at the churning pool ahead.

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rumblings


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste
Northwestern Narnia


A wolf with grizzled coat and emerald eyes (Glyn) flashes a wry grin at Caileana. “Well and plainly put.” Aliyah’s words trouble him, though. “If there are troubling rumours, then I for one think we should chase them down. Anyone who would seize control and undermine the established order might think they have the good of Narnia at heart, but they could do untold damage on the way.”

Pheeobe nods again. “Glyn is right. We must do everything we can to keep the peace. We must put the good of all at the center.”

Caileana chimes in, “Does the Council even have any candidates to rule in mind? Of tradition, Narnia has been governed by Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, but there are few enough of those, and even fewer that could be said to be more Narnian than Archenlander.”

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canine introductions


Selale Basin
Lantern Waste
Northwestern Narnia


Here is a wide open space carved in the rock, roughly circular and no more than twenty yards in diameter. The cliffs loom high on every side, providing shelter from wind and weather, but a great opening very far up lets in sunlight and sky. A thin jet of water, perhaps a daughter-stream of the river that pours into Caldron Pool, cascades down the western cliff face and feeds into a deep pool the color and clarity of a well-cut emerald. The ground, except for a ring of vegetation surrounding the pool, is dry and sandy. A single ancient larch tree grows tall near the north wall.

All around, the cliff face is etched and pocked with half-open tunnels and dark holes, entrances to small caves hollowed out years ago by the long work of water on stone. Some are fitted with wooden doors and appear inhabited, but many still yawn empty. Up above, ledges and crevices in the rock provide nesting spaces for eagles and hawks. In the east wall, through a wide crevice like a wound in the stone, the forests of Lantern Waste are just visible.


Aliyah points at the water. “I think it’s going to need a bath when you’re done.” She shakes her head, continuing. “Anyway, it seems he had different thoughts than I did. I said I needed to be in a place away from where my family was. My wording was off for certain as I meant where my blood family used to be. So he let out this growly noise. You know the one, I’m sure. He then said that part of growing up was figuring out who I was without my family, but I could hurt those who care about me by doing that. It’s like…” She sighs. “He thought I meant Ulfden, and maybe subconsciously I did?” She looks at Crenna for advice.

Crenna raises a paw and attempts to splash Aliyah. “Oh hush.” She leaps out, shaking out her fur before looking at her reflection, making sure that she looks semi presentable. Though how much can a drenched wolf be actually presentable. She flops a bit in the sun to dry up as she addresses her friend, “Just because Ulfden can be…different doesn’t make them any less of a family. After all, being in a pack is being in a family.” She tips her head, “Do you miss Ulfden, Aliyah?”

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day 3: over and done


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste


Peridot’s eyes follow his toward the tent and then go back to the Prince. She bows again. “Thank you, your highness. I want to do my part for their Majesties as well. They have been good to us beasts.”

Cor says, “I’m sure we — I’m sure we all want that.” He takes a breath. “Lord Peridan might be better to talk to.”

Peridan ducks out of the tent, rubbing his forehead for a moment before straightening his shoulders and walking toward the fire where the others are gathered.

Continue reading day 3: over and done

day 2: borrowed shelter


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste


Lanisen is sitting at a fire a little after sunset, wrapped in a blanket. He has the same pale, bloodshot, anxious look as many in the party, and watches the path east into the trees without any particular focus.

Wintermoor draws close to the gathering Circle, pausing to take in those assembled there.

Lanisen resettles in his blanket and sniffs, chilled. He glances up automatically toward the Centaur, looking at his face to see if there’s any news, then looks down at the fire.

Continue reading day 2: borrowed shelter

day 2: moving forward


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste


Cor comes out of his tent looking poorly rested, and a little disheveled. He is warmly dressed, but still looks a little cold.

Petria rises from her place by the fire stretching and moves the greet Prince.

Bracken glances toward the prince. “There’s coffee if you want it Your Highness.”

Lanisen, sitting with his arms on his knees by the fire, rouses and straightens as Cor emerges. He gets to his feet, a little wobbly with lack of sleep, and bows.

Continue reading day 2: moving forward

day 1: missing party


Gathering Circle
Lantern Waste


Aliyah has moved away from the fire by this point, her coat dry. She is, however, sprawled out on her side. Being full will do that to a wolf. Her eyes remain open and alert, and her head raises as the deer appears. “Wilfry?” she offers him a smile.

Wilfry’s head snaps in the direction of Aliyah’s voice. When he spots her, his posture relaxes and he hops over a fallen log and moves toward her. “Have they got back yet?” he asks eagerly.

Aliyah shakes her head. “No, they haven’t.” She moves into a sitting position.

Wilfry frowns. “What’s taking them so long? It’s been /hours/.”

Continue reading day 1: missing party

day 1: following the white stag


Fruited Copse
Lantern Waste
Northwestern Narnia


The Narnian wilds are more open here, full of life and bounty. Chains of cranberries and acorns have been hung up, stringing from branch to branch, a seeming dare to the intrepid Squirrel. Lanterns have been set up in convenient places, casing made from turnips and candle stubs and some industrious creature’s hard work at carving openings for the light to pour from.

Under the pear tree sits a huge feasting table, laden with everything good and in season. There are squash of all varieties, potatoes roasted, mashed, and boiled, a pile of nuts more enormous than seems quite safe or possible, kale and fresney in every form, soups and stews, venison and rabbit and fish, and of course, several apple, quince, and nutty pies.


A dwarf with a military bearing (Bracken) stands by the feasting table, helping himself to liberal servings of everything.

A faun with a green scarf (Wilder) sits quietly in a corner playing his pan pipes.

Lanisen sits with his back against a tree, his arms looped loosely around his updrawn knees, people-watching with great interest.

Bracken leaves the table and searches for a spot to sit, settling in near Lanisen.

Wilder is so busy playing his tune he barely notices anything else.

Lanisen glances at the Dwarf, then glances again, one eye slightly squinted as if he’s trying to place the face.

Continue reading day 1: following the white stag

festival, night 3


Fruited Copse
Lantern Waste
Northwestern Narnia


Edmund is standing speaking to Aliyah. His face and hair are wet and his collar looks to be slightly damp, but he looks to be in good spirits.

Aliyah looks amused while speaking to Edmund. She’s overly full and also seems like she might fall over at any time from food-induced fatigue.

Lanisen walks through the orchard, following the general stream of merrymaking, though he seems to be alone for the moment.

Leon waves over to the newcomer. “Good evening, friend! Join us!”

Continue reading festival, night 3

last morning in the woods


In the Great Woods
Southeastern Narnia


Dreygan walks along one of the somewhat clearer paths through the woods. There are several leaves caught in his pelt, particularly across his back and one side. Despite the crisp air, his legs are wet, as if he’s been wading recently.

Lanisen is sitting on the step again, a mug of fragrant coffee cupped in his hands.

Dreygan pauses and sniffs as the scent of the coffee drifts towards him. He tips his head, then walks that way. “What’ve you got this time?”

Lanisen answers, shifting where he sits, “Coffee. I never had it. It smelled good.”

Continue reading last morning in the woods