Forest Clearing

You follow the overgrown path, hacking at bushes with your long-dull machete. Sweat drips from every conceivable part of your body (but particularly, you notice, the bottom part of your butt cheeks) and you are about to give up, when you notice a brighter, sunnier volume of space ahead.

In a few moments you enter a clearing. Small woodland creatures prance to and fro, and a Dundry Elf sits on a tree stump, playing his Hatootafloot.

Wiping your brow, and sipping the cold lime soda which a half-humanoid elk reverently and silently brought you during the previous paragraph, but which we forgot to describe, you let the diminutive Hatootaflootist carry your imagination away...

Pathways

Turning around, you find you cannot see the path by which you came.

However, a bottomless reflecting pool seems like the sort of thing that if you jumped in and sank down, down, down into the depths of, eventually drowning, you would awaken miraculously in the magical cave of a water faery. But it's just a rough feeling.

Then, just out of the corner of your eye, you can see another path. A charismatic bitmap smiles at you.

Hatootaloons

You pause to listen awhile longer.