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You’re standing on the spring plateau. Nestled away against the mountainside with only an obscure, treacherous trail leading upwards from the foot, the place is usually empty save for the few signs of life which mark the fact that Isla’s made her home here, no matter how temporary.

Over the years, enough soil’s accumulated on the plateau to support some modicum of life - a thin carpet of grass, clumps of colorful mountain wildflowers, the occasional berry shrub. A flock of pigeons has gathered on the mossy stones that stand about the plateau’s rim, and flutter off at your approach.

The air is crisp and clear this high up, and you’re afforded a great view of the [dt] and surrounding lands - if you squint just right, you think you can see Rigard from here.

The hot spring itself is a large pool, perhaps twenty meters in diameter and a little over one and a half deep at its middle, to one at its edges. A faint veil of steam constantly rises from the lightly bubbling surface, and it certainly looks inviting, even if not explicitly magical.

While you can’t see Isla, you can definitely sense her presence. And rightly so, after all - she’s the spring’s guardian, so it’s not as if she’d leave the place for very long.

Note: The spring itself has transformative effects, turning you toward a ferret morph


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