In the Great Woods
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.”