Park
"Rest, my darling bird. Sleep, and evolve. And as for you, rambunctious little kit, it's time I wash my hands of you. Goodbye."
The woman whistles, and from the trees a flock of jaundiced, fungus covered pixies flies, encircling the vine that holds Reinholdt in place and giggling vacantly. The mushrooms glow, and they'll attempt to do to him what failed on Astrana, teleporting him to another circle in another park, far away if they succeed.
Now to leave. These darlings will never grow if they stay under her shadow. She must let them fend for themselves, and hope that some survive the days ahead to leave this chrysalis state and be reborn anew.