text: [Themes: Slice of life, Fantasy, slice of life, animal NPC]
  
  > Go downward
  The trail turns west as it descends.
  
  Someone has dug a trench here, from the path out over the bank.
  
  The afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  > Go southeast
  The bush seems to have been utterly demolished by the falling boulder. Nothing is left in the crack but a couple of splinters. (One of those little coincidences that makes your life a little stranger.)
  
  The lone tree has been laid low. About ten feet still sticks up from the ground; the rest lies across the path and downslope, splintered and scorched.
  
  A heavy branch seems to have been blown from the tree. It lies on the ground nearby, blackened but no longer burning.
  
  Runoff water is flowing down the hillside here. It puddles on the ledge, behind the fallen tree, and streams down the southwest path.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > Wedge blade
  What do you want to wedge the spade blade in?
  
  > Crack
  What do you want to crack?
  
  > Wedge blade in crack
  The spade blade slips into the crack. You stretch and give it a couple of whacks, to wedge it in place.
  
  > get branch
  Taken.
  
  > look
  You're standing on a ledge, on a rather steep, overgrown hillface. Rain hides the stream below and the hilltop above, and to the west is only dark.
  
  Trails angle down to the northwest and southwest. Another crosses the hill to the south, but a chunk is washed out, too wide to jump across.
  
  The spade blade is jammed into a crack in the hillside, to the south. It's right in the gap in the southern path.
  
  The lone tree has been laid low. About ten feet still sticks up from the ground; the rest lies across the path and downslope, splintered and scorched.
  
  Runoff water is flowing down the hillside here. It puddles on the ledge, behind the fallen tree, and streams down the southwest path.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > Go south
  You heft the heavy branch, considering your balance. You realize that you'll never make it across. The blade only sticks out a few inches from the hillside; you'd be off-balance enough by yourself, never mind what you're carrying.
  
  > look
  You are high on the hill; it rolls downward and off to the west. Beyond the trees and brush, the world is cloaked in dark rain, and scarred with distant lightning. Behind you stands the last stony lump of hill. A narrow trail curves away to the northwest.
  
  A boulder is lying at the base of the hilltop, prised up out of the hole it was in. The boulder is resting on a spade blade. There's just enough room to squeeze into the cave behind it.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > go to the northwest
  The trail turns west as it descends.
  
  Someone has dug a trench here, from the path out over the bank.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  > go southwest
  The fox is crouched on the bridge, staring out to the west with impenetrable intensity.
  
  A torn sandbag is lying in a narrow part of the path.
  
  The afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  The fox's ears twitch tensely.
  
  > go to the south
  The boulder is lying near here, on the path, wedged against the rise.
  
  A stream of runoff water is flowing down from the east, and backing up on the path here.
  
  The runoff water is backing up behind the boulder.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > go east
  The trail turns northeast as it climbs.
  
  The bush seems to have been utterly demolished by the falling boulder. Nothing is left in the crack but a couple of splinters. (One of those little coincidences that makes your life a little stranger.)
  
  The lone tree has been laid low. About ten feet still sticks up from the ground; the rest lies across the path and downslope, splintered and scorched.
  
  A heavy branch seems to have been blown from the tree. It lies on the ground nearby, blackened but no longer burning.
  
  Runoff water is flowing down the hillside here. It puddles on the ledge, behind the fallen tree, and streams down the southwest path.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying a rusty key and a battered tin bucket.
  
  > Go south
  The gap is too wide to jump, and you'll never get a foothold in that crack.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying a rusty key and a battered tin bucket.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying a heavy branch, a rusty key and a battered tin bucket.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > drop all
  heavy branch: Dropped.
  rusty key: Dropped.
  battered tin bucket: Dropped.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > drop all except the branch
  rusty key: Dropped.
  battered tin bucket: Dropped.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying a heavy branch.
  
  The afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  > go northwest
  Someone has dug a trench here, from the path out over the bank.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > go southwest
  The fox is crouched on the bridge, staring out to the west with impenetrable intensity.
  
  A torn sandbag is lying in a narrow part of the path.
  
  The afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  > look at the fox
  The fox's eyes gleam darkly.
  
  > go to the south
  The boulder is lying near here, on the path, wedged against the rise.
  
  A stream of runoff water is flowing down from the east, and backing up on the path here.
  
  The runoff water is backing up behind the boulder.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > look at the water
  A stream of runoff water is flowing down from the east, and backing up on the path here.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  The runoff water is backing up behind the boulder.
  
  > Go east
  The trail turns northeast as it climbs.
  
  The spade blade is jammed into a crack in the hillside, to the south. It's right in the gap in the southern path.
  
  The lone tree has been laid low. About ten feet still sticks up from the ground; the rest lies across the path and downslope, splintered and scorched.
  
  Runoff water is flowing down the hillside here. It puddles on the ledge, behind the fallen tree, and streams down the southwest path.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  > drop the branch
  Dropped.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > go south
  You flatten your body against the hillside, and stretch a foot towards the spade blade, off-center though you'll be. One quick step; you manage to fall forward onto the trail rather than sideways.
  
  The spade blade is jammed into a crack in the hillside, to the north. It's right in the gap in the northern path.
  
  An old shed stands just to the east. It's weathered but sturdy, still wearing the tatters of a coat of white paint. The door is open to the unrelieved darkness within.
  
  The afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  > Go east
  You step hesitantly into the darkness.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. A moment later the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder from outside.
  
  The pure white fades into a greenish glare. Flat colored shadows show the outlines of everything around you; you hold your head still to focus on the afterimages.
  
  The shed is only a few paces long, and nearly empty. The door is to the west.
  
  A dirty sandbag is lying on the ground.
  
  > get the dirty sandbag
  You heave the dirty sandbag, awkwardly, up into your arms.
  
  The afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  It is dark.
  
  > look at the sandbag
  It's too dark to see.
  
  > Go west
  The spade blade is jammed into a crack in the hillside, to the north. It's right in the gap in the northern path.
  
  An old shed stands just to the east. It's weathered but sturdy, still wearing the tatters of a coat of white paint. The door is open to the unrelieved darkness within.
  
  > drop the bag
  Dropped.
  
  > get the bag
  You heave the dirty sandbag, awkwardly, up into your arms.
  
  From somewhere below, you hear a terrible
  
  Crack!
  
  You know without seeing that the bridge has been destroyed. You begin to rush downhill, but the trail seems to stretch and time takes on the weight of nightmare...
  
  [Hit any key.]
  
  > go west
  The spade blade is jammed into a crack in the hillside, to the north. It's right in the gap in the northern path.
  
  An old shed stands just to the east. It's weathered but sturdy, still wearing the tatters of a coat of white paint. The door is open to the unrelieved darkness within.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > go north
  You heft the dirty sandbag, considering your balance. You realize that you'll never make it across. The blade only sticks out a few inches from the hillside; you'd be off-balance enough by yourself, never mind what you're carrying.
  
  > go to the south
  The ground drops almost straight down in that direction.
  
  > go upward
  No trails go up the hill from here, and the undergrowth is too heavy to push through.