At the Fork
The path divides here, one fork curving west toward Anvard and the other continuing to the northeast toward Andale. The trees are very thick here, with dense patches of thorny briar filling in the gaps between trunks, and it is impossible to see very far down the road in any direction. Sweet raspberries can be found in the thickets on either side of the path in summertime, and the forest is noisy with wildlife.
Lanisen walks along the road toward the castle, well-bundled against the mild spring chill and a bit disheveled. He’s carrying a small, shallow basket of the type used to carry herbs, which is full of daffodils, crocuses, and snowdrops, with a few sprigs of early cherry blossoms on top.
Ianto is currently sitting down on the ground, against a tree, book in hand. He appears to have brought one of his cows out for an outing – there’s a calf meandering around just ahead. Ianto looks up now and then to make sure the cow hasn’t wandered off too far. Ianto hears someone approach, and turns to offer a friendly wave. “Well hi there!”