text: [Themes: Fantasy, Slice of life, changing environment, gender-neutral protagonist]
  
  > Describe the surroundings
  A wide angular tongue juts out from the hillside. The park stretches off to the north and west, a vast expanse of dimming meadowland, patched with dark woods and stitched with dark streams. In the distance, a lake glows pale in the last light of the sky.
  
  A trail leads southwest down the hill, towards the bridge. From where you stand, it turns southeast and continues upward, deeply cut into the hillside. A narrower trail leads more steeply up to the east.
  
  Someone has dug a trench here, from the path out over the bank. Stuck in the mud near it is a spade blade.
  
  The sky is dimming, and a mist is rolling in, under the clouds.
  
  > Go north
  The hillside drops straight down in that direction.
  
  > go to the west
  The hillside drops straight off to the stream in that direction.
  
  > go east
  The trail turns southeast as it climbs.
  
  You are high on the hill; it rolls downward and off to the west. Beyond the trees and brush, meadows fade in the mist. Behind you stands the last stony lump of hill. A narrow trail curves away to the northwest.
  
  A small orange fox is perched nearby, staring at you with undisguised interest.
  
  A boulder is half-buried at the base of the hilltop. The mouth of a small cave is just visible behind it.
  
  > examine the trench
  The trench is a foot deep or so, and maybe a yard wide. It starts where the wide trail turns, and leads west over the bank.
  
  > dig the cave
  You won't get far without something to dig with.
  
  The fox chases around your feet for a moment. It seems to be watching something you hold.
  
  > look at spade
  At this point, it's just a two-foot-long stick, broken at both ends.
  
  The fox chases its tail furiously for a moment, then stops and stares at you to make sure you didn't see.
  
  > throw the stick into the cave
  That can't contain things.
  
  The fox has slipped away.
  
  > go to the northwest
  The trail turns west as it descends.
  
  A wide angular tongue juts out from the hillside. The park stretches off to the north and west, a vast expanse of dim meadowland, patched with dark woods and stitched with dark streams. A layer of mist is rolling across the landscape.
  
  A trail leads southwest down the hill, towards the bridge. From where you stand, it turns southeast and continues upward, deeply cut into the hillside. A narrower trail leads more steeply up to the east.
  
  Someone has dug a trench here, from the path out over the bank. Stuck in the mud near it is a spade blade.
  
  The mist is turning to a drizzle of rain.
  
  The fox appears beside a clump of weeds.
  
  > Go southeast
  You're standing on a ledge, on a rather steep, overgrown hillface. Mist hides the stream below and the hilltop above, but the meadows and clouds beyond sweep away into the west.
  
  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.
  
  A bush is growing out of a crack in the hillside, to the south. It's right in the gap in the southern path. You could probably use it to get across. (One of those little coincidences that makes your life a little nicer.)
  
  Among the hill's brush and scraggly trees, the tree that stands here stands alone. You might be able to get your arms around it, and you might not; it must reach nearly as high as the hilltop itself.
  
  The fox appears on a nearby rock.
  
  The fox blinks.
  
  > climb tree
  The trunk is smooth and the lowest branch is at least twenty feet in the air.
  
  > look at the bush
  You see nothing special about the bush.
  
  The fox has slipped away.
  
  > search the bush
  You find nothing of interest.
  
  Runoff water is trickling down the hill, concentrated here by some twist of geography. It puddles on the ledge, then begins pouring down the path to the northwest.
  
  > go south
  You stretch a foot towards the bush, shift your weight, and take two quick steps. The bush trembles but holds.
  
  You are in a dense tangle of shadow, bushes, and small trees. The ground falls away to the southeast, to the misty meadows below.
  
  A trail curves down to the southwest. Another cuts along the hill to the north, but a chunk is washed out, too wide to jump across.
  
  A bush is growing out of 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 closed.
  
  The fox appears under a nearby bush.
  
  > open the door
  It seems to be locked.
  
  It's dark and it's raining.
  
  > examine the lock
  The shed is weathered but sturdy, still wearing the tatters of a coat of white paint. The door is closed. The lock looks badly rusted.
  
  The fox has slipped away.
  
  > hit the lock
  It may be weathered, but it's not weakened. You can't even shake it.
  
  > examine the shed
  The shed is weathered but sturdy, still wearing the tatters of a coat of white paint. The door is closed. The lock looks badly rusted.
  
  You are getting tired.
  
  > go north
  You stretch a foot towards the bush, shift your weight, and take two quick steps. The bush trembles but holds.
  
  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.
  
  A bush is growing out of a crack in the hillside, to the south. It's right in the gap in the southern path.
  
  Runoff water is flowing down the hillside here. It puddles on the ledge, and streams down the northwest path.
  
  Among the hill's brush and scraggly trees, the tree that stands here stands alone. You might be able to get your arms around it, and you might not; it must reach nearly as high as the hilltop itself.
  
  > Drink water
  There's nothing suitable to drink here.
  
  It's dark and it's raining. Hard.
  
  The fox appears beside a clump of weeds.
  
  > go northwest
  A wide angular tongue juts out from the hillside. A dark expanse stretches to the north and west, impenetrable with rain.
  
  A trail leads southwest down the hill, towards the bridge. From where you stand, it turns southeast and continues upward, deeply cut into the hillside. A narrower trail leads more steeply up to the east.
  
  A stream of runoff water is flowing down from the southeast, and pouring down the trench to the unseen stream below.
  
  Someone has dug a trench here, from the path out over the bank. Stuck in the mud near it is a spade blade.
  
  > take the spade
  (the spade blade)
  The spade blade slides free of the mud.
  
  > Go east
  The trail turns southeast as it climbs.
  
  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. Behind you stands the last stony lump of hill. A narrow trail curves away to the northwest.
  
  A boulder is half-buried at the base of the hilltop. The mouth of a small cave is just visible behind it.
  
  You are getting tired.
  
  > Pry boulder
  You grasp the boulder as best you can and heave -- fruitlessly. It's well sunk into the ground.
  
  > Wedge spade under boulder
  Which do you mean, the spade blade or the broken spade shaft?
  
  > Blade
  The blade is thin enough to work under the boulder, but it's too short to give you any leverage.
  
  The fox appears beside a clump of weeds.
  
  The fox glances at you, or perhaps something you hold.
  
  > go to the northwest
  The trail turns west as it descends.
  
  A wide angular tongue juts out from the hillside. A dark expanse stretches to the north and west, impenetrable with rain.
  
  A trail leads southwest down the hill, towards the bridge. From where you stand, it turns southeast and continues upward, deeply cut into the hillside. A narrower trail leads more steeply up to the east.
  
  A stream of runoff water is flowing down from the southeast, and pouring down the trench to the unseen stream below.
  
  Someone has dug a trench here, from the path out over the bank.
  
  You are very tired.
  
  > Go southeast
  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.
  
  A bush is growing out of a crack in the hillside, to the south. It's right in the gap in the southern path.
  
  Runoff water is flowing down the hillside here. It puddles on the ledge, and streams down the northwest path.
  
  Among the hill's brush and scraggly trees, the tree that stands here stands alone. You might be able to get your arms around it, and you might not; it must reach nearly as high as the hilltop itself.
  
  The fox appears under a nearby bush.
  
  > Go south
  You stretch a foot towards the bush, shift your weight, and take two quick steps. The bush trembles but holds.
  
  You are in a dense tangle of shadow, bushes, and small trees. The ground falls away to the southeast, into darkness and rain.
  
  A trail curves down to the southwest. Another cuts along the hill to the north, but a chunk is washed out, too wide to jump across.
  
  A bush is growing out of 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 closed.
  
  You are very tired.
  
  The fox appears on a nearby rock.
  
  The fox glances at you, or perhaps something you hold.
  
  > Sleep
  Sleeping out in the rain will be miserable, but you're tired enough to do it. You curl up in the mud and grimly close your eyes...
  
  [Hit any key.]
  Stone hangs around you, unyielding grey veils in a dim grey light. The light comes from far away: a knife-thin crack, a cold breath, and something roaring its anger beyond. The noise stretches and stretches, leaving you gasping for air, and then an eye opens into the heart of soundless fury --
  
  You awaken, soaked and feverish, bathed in the listless light of an overcast dawn. It takes some time to drag yourself down the hill -- and then you find that the bridge has been washed out by the storm. By the time you flounder across it, your pneumonia is well set in.