You scootch back from the stream with your feet held in front of you, almost as if you were trying to crawl away from the feet themselves. You stare at your feet for what seems like half an hour trying to deny what your mind is telling you. Your feet are smaller and more supple. Your they are not the slightly hairy calloused and somewhat blistered things you stuck in the water. You stand up cautiously, not wanting to put your full weight on them. You feel the soft grass between your toes. There is no denying that they are indeed your feet.
Walking over to your shoes and socks you find them too big. You stare at the stream. It doesn't look much different then any ordinary stream, but you've got a strange feeling about it now, and not just because it clearly changed your feet. You have a familiarity about it now. For some reason you know it's an ancient river, one that has been here even longer then the forest itself. The trees, grass, and other assorted plant life have all drawn water from it. You feel as though it's the source of all the magic in the forest around you.
You shake your head, trying to clear out these thoughts. You don't want to know this, you want out of here. But even as you think that, another part of your brain wants to stay longer by the river. After some time you decide...