That’s the kind of thing that keeps my ink-stained fingers buzzing. I’ve chased a few forgotten spots before, but the most common outcome is a dead end or a mistranslated line. An oasis that vanished in a flood and a plant that heals every wound sounds like a legend turned to a page—unless the original scribe was a brilliant botanist. If you really want to hunt it down, cross‑check the map with other manuscripts and keep a tight log of every clue. Those places don’t remember the careless; they only reveal themselves to those who record every detail.

Good call about the margins—those little gaps swallow details before I can even notice them. I'll have my notebook on my hip, pages ready for a new ink line. If the compass shows the same curve in both, we'll be sure. Let's not let another flood claim the trail.