text: [Themes: Literary, Children's, fairytale, cat]
  
  > Describe the surroundings
  Grass sweeps up the hill like a brushfire, growing taller and thicker as it approaches the top where you brace yourself against the wind. You can see everything from up here: the forest, the village, even the fence where you first met the egg. The schoolhouse and its clock tower lie to the northwest.
  
  A crumbling brick well sits at the very top of the hill, almost hidden in a nest of grass. It's the simplest of designs--no cute roof, no crank, no rope or bucket--just a simple, brick cylinder in the ground. The cover, if it ever had one, is gone. From deep within the well's depths, you hear faint scratching noises interspersed with pathetic mewing.
  
  > examine the fence
  You're too far away.
  
  > put the ladder in well
  You lower the ladder into the well. It drops a few feet and hits bottom, but you can still reach in and touch it.
  
  > Down
  You sling one leg over the ledge before you remember several television news reports in which children fell into wells and had to be rescued by the fire department. Maybe it's not such a good idea after all.
  
  > climb the ladder
  The only answer is a faint, faraway meow.
  
  > examine the ladder
  It's a perfectly normal wooden ladder: two parallel slats connected by twenty or so wooden rungs inserted at regular intervals about nine or ten inches apart. The rungs do seem a little close together, but perhaps that's because this ladder was made especially for short people. After all, who would be more likely to use a ladder?
  
  > take the ladder
  Taken.
  
  > Go south
  You can only go northeast or northwest.
  
  "Hey, what are you doing?" demands the wolf suspiciously.
  
  The wolf yawns widely enough for you to count all his teeth.
  
  > ask the wolf about the kitty
  "So?" shrugs the wolf. "You want I should do something about it?"
  
  The wolf leaves after a quick reconnaissance.
  
  You can't see any such thing.
  
  > go northeast
  Grass surrounds you, acres of it, spreading across the countryside as far as you can see. A ribbon of flattened grass curves eastward, and another, not quite as fresh, circles the bungalow, branching northeast and northwest. A grass-covered hill to the southwest shimmers under the sun's heat; waves of green-gold grass ripple toward the crest of the hill, racing the wind to the top.
  
  Mary is here.
  
  A cuddly lamb prances about, seemingly unaware of your presence.
  
  You can also see a pot (which is empty), a picnic basket (which is empty), a cracked porcelain dish, a bent spoon and a battery here.
  
  > ask Mary about the kitty
  "Poor thing," she sympathizes. "I hope it doesn't get eaten by a troll."
  
  > ask Mary about the troll
  "Trolls live under bridges, I think, but we don't have any. Bridges, I mean. If I were a troll, I'd hide in the well and scare people who stick their heads in."
  
  > go northeast
  Mary tags along behind you.
  
  A cheery pink bungalow with gingerbread trim and a yellow painted door nestles behind the picket fence to the south. Grass covers the yard from corner to corner, except at the edges, where flowers dance with the fence. Circling the bungalow to the southeast and southwest, a faint path leads around the back. To the north, a few small homes peer across the lane, which has narrowed, but still runs east to west at this end of the village. The clock tower dominates the skyline to the west.
  
  Mary is here.
  
  > Go west
  "Bye!" Mary waves. "See you later!"
  
  Both the playground and its adjacent schoolhouse to the south lie vacant and deserted. The bare, hard-packed rectangle of earth, despite a few faint chalk marks, shows no evidence that children may have once played here--or might ever play here again.
  
  The lane ends its westward progress at the schoolhouse door. At the southern end of the school, a magnificent stone steeple towers above the village roofs. To see the clock from where you now stand, you must tilt your head back and point your chin at the sky. To the southeast, a gentle slope leads to a hilltop covered with wild grass.
  
  > Go east
  A cheery pink bungalow with gingerbread trim and a yellow painted door nestles behind the picket fence to the south. Grass covers the yard from corner to corner, except at the edges, where flowers dance with the fence. Circling the bungalow to the southeast and southwest, a faint path leads around the back. To the north, a few small homes peer across the lane, which has narrowed, but still runs east to west at this end of the village. The clock tower dominates the skyline to the west.
  
  Mary is here.
  
  > go to the east
  "Bye!" Mary waves. "See you later!"
  
  Blooming with color and fragrance, a tidy garden snuggles against the stone cottage to the south. Ivy frames the whitewashed front door; starched white curtains hang in a diamond-paned window. A faint path forks southeast and southwest around the cottage, toward the back. To the north, across the lane that runs through the village, a few small cottages line the road. The clock tower looms further west, silhouetted against the sky.
  
  The wolf sneaks up behind you.
  
  > Go north
  You're not supposed to cross the street by yourself. Memories of the last time you tried it and got caught prevent you from attempting it now. You can only go south, east, west, southeast, southwest or in.
  
  "Listen up," warns the wolf. "In case you forgot, I get blamed for everything around here. So watch it. I ain't takin' no rap for you."
  
  > Go south
  The ladder is too big and awkward to carry through the door.
  
  > Go northeast
  Wet branches slap your face, their icy needles stinging. Dense underbrush creeps in from all sides. With each step, mud oozes into your shoes. Insects drop from above and crawl through your hair; knuckles scrape against rough bark. The path hooks from south to southwest here, slithering between the trees like a snake. Faint rustling sounds catch your ear, but when you turn to look, all is still and quiet.
  
  > Go south
  The sun has disappeared. Only a narrow north-south passage winds through the forest here; trees and gnarled undergrowth barricade all other exits. Chill air seeps up from the ground and coils around your body, reaching down your neck with insistent, clammy fingers.
  
  > go south
  The ramshackle wooden fence in front of you seems to lurch from one horizon to the other. Although it hasn't fallen over yet, it threatens to at any moment, and if that egg isn't careful...
  
  The footpath running along the fence veers sharply north.
  
  The egg flicks an invisible piece of lint off his shirt.
  
  > put the ladder against the fence
  You lean the ladder against the fence and stand back, not quite sure what to do next. However, the egg, surprisingly nimble for such an awkward-looking creature, turns himself around and climbs down rapidly, obviously accustomed to this sort of rescue service. Once down, he grabs your hand and shakes it vigorously. "Thank you, thank you so much," the egg exclaims again and again. "Really, I can't thank you enough."
  
  Finally, his gratitude properly expressed, the egg waddles away, turning to wave goodbye one last time before he disappears completely. "You saved my life!" he shouts. "I won't forget you!"
  
  You notice a familiar-looking wolf lurking in the vicinity.
  
  > go to the west
  Blooming with color and fragrance, a tidy garden snuggles against the stone cottage to the south. Ivy frames the whitewashed front door; starched white curtains hang in a diamond-paned window. A faint path forks southeast and southwest around the cottage, toward the back. To the north, across the lane that runs through the village, a few small cottages line the road. The clock tower looms further west, silhouetted against the sky.
  
  "Surprise!" The wolf jumps out in front of you. "Gotcha that time, didn't I?"
  
  > go west
  A cheery pink bungalow with gingerbread trim and a yellow painted door nestles behind the picket fence to the south. Grass covers the yard from corner to corner, except at the edges, where flowers dance with the fence. Circling the bungalow to the southeast and southwest, a faint path leads around the back. To the north, a few small homes peer across the lane, which has narrowed, but still runs east to west at this end of the village. The clock tower dominates the skyline to the west.
  
  Mary is here.
  
  > Go west
  "Bye!" Mary waves. "See you later!"
  
  Both the playground and its adjacent schoolhouse to the south lie vacant and deserted. The bare, hard-packed rectangle of earth, despite a few faint chalk marks, shows no evidence that children may have once played here--or might ever play here again.
  
  The lane ends its westward progress at the schoolhouse door. At the southern end of the school, a magnificent stone steeple towers above the village roofs. To see the clock from where you now stand, you must tilt your head back and point your chin at the sky. To the southeast, a gentle slope leads to a hilltop covered with wild grass.
  
  > examine the door
  The schoolhouse door is solid oak. It's open.
  
  > Go inside
  The abandoned schoolroom lacks not only pupils, but also books and pencils and chalk and paper and any other hint that someone might show up for school tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next. Rows of empty desks and chairs face the teacher's desk at the front of the room as if waiting expectantly for the day's lesson. The door to the north leads back out to the empty schoolyard. Stairs to the south lead up into darkness.
  
  > Go upward
  Dimly lit stairs lead up toward darkness and down into the schoolroom below. Each step sings a different tune for you: one groans mournfully the instant you put your weight on it; the next squeaks in protest just as you step off. At the top of the stairs, a heavy, solid door stands firmly closed.
  
  > open the door
  It seems to be locked.
  
  > look at the door
  A thick, heavy door to the south blocks your way. Pale yellow light shines through a narrow crack at the bottom, like butter melting on the dark floor.
  
  Faintly, through the closed door, you hear something ticking.
  
  > look at the keyhole
  There's a keyhole in the doorknob.
  
  Faintly, through the closed door, you hear something ticking.
  
  > look in the keyhole
  You peer through the keyhole but can't see anything.
  
  Faintly, through the closed door, you hear something ticking.
  
  > listen
  Faintly, through the closed door, you hear something ticking.
  
  The wolf is back again, hanging around.
  
  The wolf loiters in the area, keeping an eye on you.
  
  > ask the wolf about the door
  The wolf snarls at you and chews on a toothpick.
  
  Faintly, through the closed door, you hear something ticking.
  
  The wolf loiters in the area, keeping an eye on you.
  
  > knock on the door
  You hear an answering knock, faster and more urgent than your own.
  
  Faintly, through the closed door, you hear something ticking.
  
  The wolf grins at you as he twirls the toothpick in his mouth.
  
  > keep going
  You hear an answering knock, faster and more urgent than your own.
  
  Faintly, through the closed door, you hear something ticking.
  
  > talk to the door
  You can only do that to something animate.
  
  > go to the east
  "Bye!" Mary waves. "See you later!"
  
  Blooming with color and fragrance, a tidy garden snuggles against the stone cottage to the south. Ivy frames the whitewashed front door; starched white curtains hang in a diamond-paned window. A faint path forks southeast and southwest around the cottage, toward the back. To the north, across the lane that runs through the village, a few small cottages line the road. The clock tower looms further west, silhouetted against the sky.
  
  > Go west
  A cheery pink bungalow with gingerbread trim and a yellow painted door nestles behind the picket fence to the south. Grass covers the yard from corner to corner, except at the edges, where flowers dance with the fence. Circling the bungalow to the southeast and southwest, a faint path leads around the back. To the north, a few small homes peer across the lane, which has narrowed, but still runs east to west at this end of the village. The clock tower dominates the skyline to the west.
  
  Mary is here.
  
  "Did you miss me?" barks the wolf. "I'm back."
  
  The wolf shifts the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.
  
  > go southeast
  Mary tags along behind you.
  
  Grass surrounds you, acres of it, spreading across the countryside as far as you can see. A ribbon of flattened grass curves eastward, and another, not quite as fresh, circles the bungalow, branching northeast and northwest. A grass-covered hill to the southwest shimmers under the sun's heat; waves of green-gold grass ripple toward the crest of the hill, racing the wind to the top.
  
  Mary is here.
  
  A cuddly lamb prances about, seemingly unaware of your presence.
  
  You can also see a pot (which is empty), a picnic basket (which is empty), a cracked porcelain dish, a bent spoon and a battery here.
  
  > get all
  pot: Taken.
  picnic basket: Taken.
  cracked porcelain dish: Taken.
  bent spoon: Taken.
  battery: Taken.
  
  > go northwest
  Mary follows you to the front of the house.
  
  A cheery pink bungalow with gingerbread trim and a yellow painted door nestles behind the picket fence to the south. Grass covers the yard from corner to corner, except at the edges, where flowers dance with the fence. Circling the bungalow to the southeast and southwest, a faint path leads around the back. To the north, a few small homes peer across the lane, which has narrowed, but still runs east to west at this end of the village. The clock tower dominates the skyline to the west.
  
  Mary is here.
  
  You can also see a wolf here.
  
  The wolf leans casually on one elbow and watches you, chewing on his toothpick.
  
  > go southeast
  Grass sweeps up the hill like a brushfire, growing taller and thicker as it approaches the top where you brace yourself against the wind. You can see everything from up here: the forest, the village, even the fence where you first met the egg. The schoolhouse and its clock tower lie to the northwest.
  
  A crumbling brick well sits at the very top of the hill, almost hidden in a nest of grass. It's the simplest of designs--no cute roof, no crank, no rope or bucket--just a simple, brick cylinder in the ground. The cover, if it ever had one, is gone. From deep within the well's depths, you hear faint scratching noises interspersed with pathetic mewing.
  
  You notice a familiar-looking wolf lurking in the vicinity.
  
  The wolf loiters in the area, keeping an eye on you.
  
  > check your inventory
  You are carrying:
  a battery
  a bent spoon
  a cracked porcelain dish
  a picnic basket (which is open but empty)
  a pot (which is open but empty)
  
  > go east
  "Bye!" Mary waves. "See you later!"
  
  Blooming with color and fragrance, a tidy garden snuggles against the stone cottage to the south. Ivy frames the whitewashed front door; starched white curtains hang in a diamond-paned window. A faint path forks southeast and southwest around the cottage, toward the back. To the north, across the lane that runs through the village, a few small cottages line the road. The clock tower looms further west, silhouetted against the sky.
  
  "Did you miss me?" barks the wolf. "I'm back."
  
  > Go inside
  From the scrubbed oak floorboards to the comfy, upholstered furniture gathered around the hearth, this feels like home.
  
  A wooden spinning wheel sits quietly nearby. Its bobbin holds some black yarn.
  
  You can also see a big, giant bag (in which is some soft wool), a medium-sized bag (in which is some glossy wool) and a wee, little bag (in which is some curly wool) here.
  
  You notice a familiar-looking wolf lurking in the vicinity.
  
  > examine the soft wool
  The soft black wool is thick and cushiony.
  
  The wolf exits, stage left.
  
  > examine the yarn
  The black yarn seems very strong, almost like rope. One end of the yarn is wound around the spinning wheel's bobbin.
  
  > examine glossy
  The glossy black wool is airy and buoyant.
  
  > get the yarn
  You unwind the yarn from the bobbin.
  
  > Tie the yarn to the basket
  The handle is gone, so you tie the yarn to a loose piece of straw and give it a tug. The yarn slips off. Then you try to poke the yarn through an undamaged part of the basket's weave, but the straw is so tightly woven that you can't find a gap big enough.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  some yarn
  a battery
  a bent spoon
  a cracked porcelain dish
  a picnic basket (which is open but empty)
  a pot (which is open but empty)
  
  "Heads up!" shouts the wolf in your ear. "Ha, ha, made you look!"
  
  > tie the yarn to the pot
  You tie one end of the yarn to the pot handle.
  
  "Don't mind me; I was just leaving," mentions the wolf over his shoulder as he skulks out of sight.
  
  > go outside
  Blooming with color and fragrance, a tidy garden snuggles against the stone cottage to the south. Ivy frames the whitewashed front door; starched white curtains hang in a diamond-paned window. A faint path forks southeast and southwest around the cottage, toward the back. To the north, across the lane that runs through the village, a few small cottages line the road. The clock tower looms further west, silhouetted against the sky.
  
  > put pot in well
  You lower the pot into the well, letting the yarn slide through your fingers. Oh, no! The yarn is yanked from your hands without warning. Both the pot and the yarn fall to the bottom of the well.
  
  > Tie the yarn to well
  You'll have to untie the yarn from the pot first.
  
  > examine well
  You look down into the well, which is very deep and very dark, but...oh, yes, something moved down there!
  
  > Tie the pot to well
  You're just being silly. Stop it, or I'll tell your mother.
  
  > give the hose to the kitty
  (first taking the well)
  (first taking the well)
  (the village to the kitten)
  (first taking the village)
  That's hardly portable.
  
  > put the yarn in well
  You'll have to untie the pot first.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  some yarn
  a pot (which is open but empty and is tied to some yarn)
  a battery
  a bent spoon
  a cracked porcelain dish
  a picnic basket (which is open but empty)
  
  > put the basket in well
  You throw the picnic basket into the well. In a few moments, you hear a faraway splash and an angry, screeching yowl.
  
  > go northeast
  "Hi there," Mary waves. "Nice to see you again."
  
  Grass surrounds you, acres of it, spreading across the countryside as far as you can see. A ribbon of flattened grass curves eastward, and another, not quite as fresh, circles the bungalow, branching northeast and northwest. A grass-covered hill to the southwest shimmers under the sun's heat; waves of green-gold grass ripple toward the crest of the hill, racing the wind to the top.
  
  Mary is here.
  
  A cuddly lamb prances about, seemingly unaware of your presence.
  
  > Go north
  You can't, since the bungalow blocks your way. You can only go east, northeast, northwest or southwest.
  
  > go to the east
  "Bye!" Mary waves. "See you later!"
  
  With no fences to hinder it, the waist-high grass flows unimpeded for miles, like water downstream, covering the world from here to the horizon. Almost hidden by the grass, a narrow path forks northeast and northwest toward the front of the cottage. A swath to the west lies flat, as if someone waded through it not long ago. At the far edge of the meadow, against the western sky, a few cloud feathers drift leisurely behind the clock tower's silhouette.
  
  > Go north
  You can't, since the cottage blocks your way. You can only go west, northeast or northwest.
  
  > go east
  Prickly weeds and burrs weave through the grass, creating a tangle impossible to penetrate any further. You can only go west, northeast or northwest.
  
  > Go northeast
  Blooming with color and fragrance, a tidy garden snuggles against the stone cottage to the south. Ivy frames the whitewashed front door; starched white curtains hang in a diamond-paned window. A faint path forks southeast and southwest around the cottage, toward the back. To the north, across the lane that runs through the village, a few small cottages line the road. The clock tower looms further west, silhouetted against the sky.
  
  > go east
  The footpath snaking down from the northeastern forest has widened here into a country lane. Gravel crunches beneath your feet and a warm breeze riffles your hair as you walk in the sun. Some distance to the west, a few small cottages flock together like children telling secrets. Smoke curls from the chimney of the cottage nearest to you. Beyond the village, further west, a clock tower rises above the surrounding roofs.
  
  > Go northeast
  Wet branches slap your face, their icy needles stinging. Dense underbrush creeps in from all sides. With each step, mud oozes into your shoes. Insects drop from above and crawl through your hair; knuckles scrape against rough bark. The path hooks from south to southwest here, slithering between the trees like a snake. Faint rustling sounds catch your ear, but when you turn to look, all is still and quiet.
  
  "Did you miss me?" barks the wolf. "I'm back."
  
  > enter
  From the scrubbed oak floorboards to the comfy, upholstered furniture gathered around the hearth, this feels like home.
  
  A wooden spinning wheel sits quietly nearby.
  
  You can also see a big, giant bag (in which is some soft wool), a medium-sized bag (in which is some glossy wool) and a wee, little bag (in which is some curly wool) here.
  
  > put the battery in the wheel
  You snap the battery into place inside the compartment.
  
  The wolf is back again, hanging around.
  
  The wolf loiters in the area, keeping an eye on you.
  
  > turn on the wheel
  The treadle begins to pump, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Soon the wheel is spinning frantically.
  
  > examine the wheel
  The spinning wheel is turning so rapidly that you wonder if the whole thing will fly apart and hurl pieces of itself through the air. The bobbin, in particular, looks like a dangerous projectile.
  
  The wolf leaves after a quick reconnaissance.
  
  > turn off the wheel
  You flip the toggle switch to the OFF position, and the spinning wheel slows to a stop.
  
  > examine the bobbin
  The bobbin is a wooden spindle that collects the finished yarn or thread as it spins. It's empty. The bobbin and spinning wheel are at rest.
  
  You notice a familiar-looking wolf lurking in the vicinity.
  
  > put the yarn on wheel
  You wind the loose end of the yarn around the bobbin.
  
  The wolf leaves after a quick reconnaissance.
  
  > turn on the wheel
  Slowly, the wheel begins to turn, creaking under the weight of the iron pot. The winding yarn drags the pot behind it and eventually lifts it off the ground. When the bobbin can't turn any further, you flip the toggle switch off again.
  
  > take the pot
  (the pot and the yarn)
  Taken.