Briar

Briar sits high on a plateau of deep, soft moss. On its duskward side, a sheer cliff drops away into wild country. On its dawnward side is a shorter drop, with a ladder of braided root and stick leaning against it. That ladder is the only real way in or out.

The people here farm moss and spores, gather dew for water, and live in huts of moss, leaf, and stone. Fen and Lira’s home is an old acorn shell. Breakfast is lichenloaf with a pinch of spore dust, which goes on everything. Everyone knows everyone, and old Hemlock has an opinion about all of it.

Briar is warm and safe and very small. Its people look after each other, and they do not go far. No one from Briar in living memory has gone down that ladder and come back.