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.