As always, there is a serene stillness to the dryads’ glade. A few nymphs are playing around in the spring, their peals of laughter a pure song of joy. More forest creatures lounge about the flower field, waving to you when they see you. A soft glow that seems to emanate from the spring itself spreads warmth throughout the area.
At the center of the glade stands the old Mother Tree, the voluptuous dryad herself resting on some of the low roots.
Her daughter, Orchid, is playing around with some of her friends, though she is cautious about where she waves her tentacles.
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