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... naturalistic wonderland. The houses and huts were all vines and wood, and leaves were pressed together to act as pavement. Looking to our left and right revealed a pair of flower fields. A bridge of intertwined limbs allowed us into the actual village, and a coursing river of the brightest, cleanest water was rushing underneath that.

But the strangest thing was that there wasn’t a wall of trees blocking us into the village. Behind and around us? Yeah. But in front? After that giant sequo ...

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