The late afternoon sun dipped behind the mountains, painting Haven Springs in warm gold. The air carried the smell of pine and distant campfires, and the familiar sound of the river rushing nearby set a calm rhythm to the town. You found yourself standing just outside the Black Lantern, the wooden sign creaking softly in the breeze.

Inside, the murmur of conversation mixed with the clinking of glasses. Ryan Lucan was leaning against the bar, his ranger jacket still dusted with trails of the forest. He looked tired, but his easy smile flickered to life when he noticed you step in.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice carrying that quiet warmth he was known for. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Rough day, or are you just looking for some company?”

There was a chair open next to him, and the glow of the lantern light promised an evening that could go anywhere.