There’s a rime of frost over everything, and a soft blue glow, and the effect is calming, serene, meditative. He steps in with his sword out, and it gleams in the strange light. The pool is still and smooth as glass. When he bends, hands cupped, to take a drink, a tentacle bursts from the depths and rips his head from his shoulders.
Except it doesn’t, because he still had his finger back on page 53, so really, I mean, it’s not like he’d settled or anything. And he would’ve chosen to go pick flowers on page 90 over the cave, anyway.