It's a sunken den in the back of a house. The air is cool, and it is decorated in brown wood paneling on the walls, with thick shaggy brown carpet. There is a brick fireplace on one wall, with a sofa on the opposite wall. The room is lit by sunlight from windows high on the wall and in ajacent rooms.

The forest is dotted with very tall deciduous trees. All of the leaves are green and sunlight sporadically pierces the canopy to fall on the sparse foliage covering the ground. A few intermittent bushes appear at the base of some trees, and the ground is covered with a haphazard combination of dirt, grass, and the occasional fallen log. The forest is warm.

The path is made of dirt, and is easily navigated through the tall trees. It is well traveled, though no one else appears to be on it. The path winds through the massive trunks, and disappears into the darker reaches of the forest a short distance away. There are no artificial markers, but the path is easily distinguishable.

The path ends at a gentle stream, and is retreating at a brisk pace from a waterfall, which cascades down a large hill. The water is clear and cool to the touch, and the stream is only six or seven feet across and a few feet deep.

It is a brown canteen, nestled in tall grass along the edge of the water. The cap is screwed on tightly and the bottle looks a little dirty, as though it has been tossed in the dirt. It feels like there is some water left inside.

It is a heavy key with a gold surface flaking off to reveal a tarnished bronze underneath. The key is about three inches long with a twisted design at the head and a few conspicuously protruding prongs at the end. A key like this might open a heavy door.