text: [Themes: Science Fiction, changing environment, science fiction, transformation, non-human npcs]
  
  > Look around
  Boulder (on the giant rock)
  A massive slab of rock has fallen into the woods from the canyon walls to the west. It is halfway sunk into the turf and looks almost sculpted. The canyon wall looms over you from the west. The woodlands parallel it, running north-south, although the canyon steepens to the north. Water glints between the trees to the east.
  
  You can see a dead fish here.
  
  You can feel annoyance from the south, and concentration from the east.
  
  > Down
  You jump down from the boulder.
  
  The deer gallop up from the south with a thunder of hooves. They spend several moments looking around with suspicion before returning to their grazing.
  
  You sense annoyance fading from the south.
  
  > take the fish
  In the absence of any other options, you pick up the dead fish in your mouth.
  
  The deer suddenly prick up their ears, and then walk off east.
  
  You sense a new feeling of hunger from the south.
  
  > Go west
  You can't go that way.
  
  You sense concentration changing to hostility and a new feeling of irritation from the east.
  
  > Go south
  The ground rises to meet the canyon wall to the west here, and small trees are scattered across the slope. There is very little undergrowth, lending the woods an airy, garden-like feel. The trees get denser to the north and east, but space opens out to the south.
  
  You can feel hunger from the east.
  
  > go south
  Part of the canyon wall has fallen here, forming a huge bank of sandy rubble. This looks like it used to be part of the rabbit warren you can see to the south, but this section has been abandoned. Part of the mound has begun to be colonised by the woods that extend to the north. You can see the river in the distance down to the east.
  
  The bank doesn't look very stable and is full of partially collapsed burrows. One of them has been dug free of sand.
  
  You can feel peacefulness from the south.
  
  > Dig
  You've already cleared out one of the burrows.
  
  You sense peacefulness changing to caution from the south.
  
  > drop the fish
  You carefully put down the dead fish.
  
  > Go outside
  You emerge, blinking, into the sunlight.
  
  Part of the canyon wall has fallen here, forming a huge bank of sandy rubble. This looks like it used to be part of the rabbit warren you can see to the south, but this section has been abandoned. Part of the mound has begun to be colonised by the woods that extend to the north. You can see the river in the distance down to the east.
  
  The bank doesn't look very stable and is full of partially collapsed burrows. One of them has been dug free of sand.
  
  You can feel peacefulness from the south.
  
  > Go north
  The ground rises to meet the canyon wall to the west here, and small trees are scattered across the slope. There is very little undergrowth, lending the woods an airy, garden-like feel. The trees get denser to the north and east, but space opens out to the south.
  
  > go to the north
  A massive slab of rock has fallen into the woods from the canyon walls to the west. It is halfway sunk into the turf and looks almost sculpted. The canyon wall looms over you from the west. The woodlands parallel it, running north-south, although the canyon steepens to the north. Water glints between the trees to the east.
  
  The huge boulder towers over the surrounding trees.
  
  You can feel annoyance from the north, and concentration from the east.
  
  > Go east
  A haphazard but substantial dam has been built across the river out of logs and fallen trees. Water pours through the many little gaps to form a delta of pools and runnels, before joining back together into the main flow of the river, which disappears into the woods to the south. Upstream of the dam to the north there is a substantial lake, but everywhere else, all you can see are trees. The river looks crossable, to reach the east side of the canyon.
  
  Some fish flap about in the pools.
  
  The beavers bustle about, working on the dam.
  
  > take the fish
  You kill another fish.
  
  A small pack of beavers heads purposefully into the woods.
  
  You sense a new feeling of annoyance from the west.
  
  > eat the fish
  (the dead fish)
  It smells vile.
  
  One of the beavers starts whittling a branch with its serrated tusks.
  
  You sense annoyance changing to irritation from the west.
  
  > go north
  The lake nestles under the cliffs at the edge of the canyon, so that the east side is a sheer wall rising out of the water; but here on the west side the ground slopes gradually so there is a wide shore of pebbles and rough sand. Mats of grassy plants form little green islands here and there, some under the water. Beyond the beach, unkempt woodland rises up the west side of the canyon, while far to the north, at the head of the canyon, there is a distant skein of falling water as the river tumbles down the cliff into the lake.
  
  Scattered along the waterfront are some splintered fish bones.
  
  Over on the other side of the lake, you can see the otter with its head out of the water, staring at you intently.
  
  You can feel concentration from the south.
  
  > look at the bones
  They're old and bleached the sun, and look well-gnawed. There's quite a lot of them.
  
  Over on the other side of the lake, you can see the otter with its head out of the water, staring at you intently.
  
  > Wave
  You wave, feeling foolish.
  
  Over on the other side of the lake, you can see the otter with its head out of the water, staring at you intently.
  
  > show fish to the otter
  (the dead fish to the otter)
  The otter is unimpressed.
  
  Over on the other side of the lake, you can see the otter with its head out of the water, staring at you intently.
  
  > drop the fish
  (the dead fish)
  Dropped.
  
  There's a sudden splash as the otter surfaces just offshore. Close up, it's noticeably bigger than you are, with a pointed nose and alert looking whiskers. It stares at you with interest.
  
  The otter is bored. And a bit hungry. And cross. Mostly bored.
  There's lots of crunchy things in the lake, and they're good, but what it really wants is fish. And something to do. The creatures on the dam won't let it near the fish, but this rabbit has one! But there's something not right about it. Maybe it's dangerous? But it has a fish for the otter. It must love the otter!
  
  While you're reeling from this bombardment of images, the otter wriggles ashore and scurries up the beach.
  
  > take the fish
  Which do you mean, the dead fish or the fish bones?
  
  > Dead
  Taken.
  
  The otter dives back into the water and vanishes.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes.
  
  The otter sits back on its haunches and gobbles down the fish with every appearance of satisfaction. It watches you eagerly.
  
  > Bite otter
  You're a rabbit. About the only thing you're capable of hurting are leaves.
  
  The otter waits for you patiently.
  
  > Go south
  A haphazard but substantial dam has been built across the river out of logs and fallen trees. Water pours through the many little gaps to form a delta of pools and runnels, before joining back together into the main flow of the river, which disappears into the woods to the south. Upstream of the dam to the north there is a substantial lake, but everywhere else, all you can see are trees. The river looks crossable, to reach the east side of the canyon.
  
  Some fish flap about in the pools.
  
  The beavers bustle about, working on the dam.
  
  The otter follows you from the north, whiskers twitching. It appears to be a bit less confident. It looks longingly at the fish jumping in the pools, but eyes the beavers and stays well over on the west side of the shore.
  
  > Go west
  A massive slab of rock has fallen into the woods from the canyon walls to the west. It is halfway sunk into the turf and looks almost sculpted. The canyon wall looms over you from the west. The woodlands parallel it, running north-south, although the canyon steepens to the north. Water glints between the trees to the east.
  
  The huge boulder towers over the surrounding trees.
  
  The otter follows you from the east, whiskers twitching. It is getting a little puzzled.
  
  You can feel concentration from the east.
  
  > Go south
  The ground rises to meet the canyon wall to the west here, and small trees are scattered across the slope. There is very little undergrowth, lending the woods an airy, garden-like feel. The trees get denser to the north and east, but space opens out to the south.
  
  The otter follows you from the north, whiskers twitching. It is beginning to look disappointed.
  
  > go south
  Part of the canyon wall has fallen here, forming a huge bank of sandy rubble. This looks like it used to be part of the rabbit warren you can see to the south, but this section has been abandoned. Part of the mound has begun to be colonised by the woods that extend to the north. You can see the river in the distance down to the east.
  
  The bank doesn't look very stable and is full of partially collapsed burrows. One of them has been dug free of sand.
  
  The otter follows you from the north, whiskers twitching. It gives you a look full of betrayal, but is seems to have picked up an interesting scent from the burrow.
  
  You can feel caution from the south, and hunger from the east.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  The otter wriggles into the rabbit burrow. It's really too big to fit and the burrow starts to crumble around it.
  
  > Kick
  (the burrows)
  You give the sandy bank a good whack. It's already beginning to shift from the way the otter is wriggling about, and the burrow falls in on itself with a thump. There's a brief squeak from inside,
  followed by a very faint, helpless whine which mercifully stops quickly.
  
  You sense hunger fading from the east.
  
  > Dig
  You start digging and quickly uncover the otter's body. You haul it out.
  
  > take the body
  Your absence of hands is a bit of problem, but you end up picking up one end of the otter's body in your mouth.
  
  > Go east
  You laboriously drag the otter's body with you.
  
  The flat river valley here isn't as wet as the marsh further south, and has bloomed into an astonishing wildflower meadow. The flowers are all strange and alien, of course, but the air is fragrant and peaceful. The only sound is the gentle noise of the river to the east. Off to the west the ground begins to rise up to meet the canyon wall, while forests dominate the north.
  
  > go to the north
  You laboriously drag the otter's body with you.
  
  The river is narrow and rocky here, and the river churns noisily between the boulders. Trees come down to the water's edge on both sides, and twigs and dead leaves spiral dizzyingly in the vortices. The woods are fairly dense here and seem to go on in all directions.
  
  You can feel concentration from the north.
  
  > go south
  You laboriously drag the otter's body with you.
  
  Here in the shadow of the Mother Tree the ground is flat and wet; reed-like plants with white flowers grow everywhere and the air is musky. The river winds slowly along the east side of the marsh with woodlands beyond it. To the west the ground rises to what look like a series of sandy bluffs. The ground looks drier to the north where the canyon ramparts start to close in.
  
  You can feel peacefulness from the west.
  
  > go to the west
  You laboriously drag the otter's body with you.
  
  This little grassy hollow half-way up the side of the canyon looks like it's been colonised by rabbits. The tough grass-like ground covering has been dug away and the sandy soil underneath is full of burrows. Down to the east the view over the Mother Tree is spectacular, much better than it was from the top; you can probably climb up to the west. The slope steepens and becomes impassably steep to the south, but the warren continues to the north.
  
  There are burrows everywhere.
  
  Eyes seem to be staring at you from out of the burrows.
  
  > go south
  It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the dim light.
  
  You laboriously drag the otter's body with you.
  
  The trees here are huge: massive columnar towers rising out of the soft green turf to support the dense leaf canopy above. Golden rays angle down between the trees, filling the vast space with dim light, and reflecting off the river that runs down the east side. The air seems permeated with peacefulness.
  
  Large green cocoons are attached to the bases of some of the trees.
  
  A cocoon silently folds open. There's a moment's pause, and then a grey rabbit leaps out, streaks past you, and is gone.
  
  The cocoon closes again.
  
  One of the cocoons unfolds, revealing a mass of soft, white padding. It seems to be waiting for you.
  
  > put the body in the cocoon
  (the closed cocoons)
  You're carrying things around with your teeth. The only way you can do that is to drag it there.
  
  > enter the cocoon
  (the open cocoon)
  You climb onto the open cocoon and burrow your way into the cottony stuff.
  
  You laboriously drag the otter's body with you.
  
  You are immersed in a warm, comforting heap of something soft. It envelops you like an old blanket.
  
  The cocoon folds up around you, wrapping you in comforting, secure darkness.
  
  "Telepathy?" you say.
  
  You're in one of the Concerto's observation bubbles: a
  transparent sphere of force field held just off the hull. The huge bulk of the starship extends for kilometres behind you, but you've seen it before, and right now you have eyes only for the glowing jewel of the planet Elysia rolling past below.
  
  "Telepathy," repeats the Concerto. "The real thing."
  
  "Some sort of organic radio, I presume," you say. "Or high bandwidth ultrasound. Or---"
  
  "No," says the Concerto impatiently. "It's not
  electromagnetic, nor a matter wave, nor chemical message-passing. I've even checked for gravity waves. This is something new. And you know what that means."
  
  You don't say the words. You don't have to. New physics. A
  new lead to the unsolveable mystery of the universe. New growth in the barren garden of science.
  
  "The planet is soaked in it," says the Concerto. "I've built
  some crude detectors --- just bits of animal brain inside NMR scanners --- and mapped the surface. The distribution's not even, but there's telepathic radiation everywhere."
  
  squeamishness.
  
  "Elysia is a perfect world," it continues. "Maybe too perfect. It may be too valuable to colonise. It may be too dangerous to
  colonise. I have no idea whether there's any effect on human minds."
  
  "You'll need some pretty hard evidence to persuade the exploitation team to stay in space when Elysia's right here," you say.
  
  "And I don't have it," says the Concerto. "There's an effect.
  That's all I know. That's all we know. We don't have any idea
  of the what the implications are, only what they might be."
  
  "You think the exploitation team won't buy it," you say. "You think they'll want to go ahead with full scale colonisation and only investigate this when they're down there."
  
  "Of course they will," says the Concerto. "The exploration
  team live in space. They'll be perfectly happy about staying in orbit for another decade to look into this --- most of them were going to stay here anyway. But the exploitation team won't tolerate that."
  
  "So what are you going to do?" you ask.
  
  "The exploitation team is still frozen, which means I hold their proxy votes," says the Concerto. "For important decisions I have to
  wake a representative sample, and this is important. This means I have to wake them. I have to, you understand?"
  
  The Concerto's own built-in safeguards limit how much it can
  bend the rules. "When?" you say.
  
  "Soon," the Concerto says. "I'll delay as long as I can. But
  I must wake them. In the mean time... we need more data.
  That's where you come in."
  
  "Ah," you say. "You want me to go and look and then tell you what to say."
  
  "Correct," says the Concerto.
  
  > Exit
  You fight your way free of the cottony stuff. Dim light blinds you for a moment.
  
  The trees here are huge: massive columnar towers rising out of the soft green turf to support the dense leaf canopy above. Golden rays angle down between the trees, filling the vast space with dim light, and reflecting off the river that runs down the east side. Everything seems very quiet, as if you are being watched with caution.
  
  Large green cocoons are attached to the bases of some of the trees.
  
  As you climb out of the cocoon it silently folds closed behind you.
  
  > About you
  You walk over to the water and study your reflection. The river is wide and dark, and in the dim light makes an almost perfect mirror.
  
  The features you see have changed again. The narrow, weasel-like muzzle, the whiskers, the short, pointed ears --- yes, you are now looking out of the otter's eyes.
  
  On close examination, you seem to recognise the features. Your new body is, you think, the same one that you dragged out of the sand pit up the side of the canyon. You don't really want to think too hard about the implications of that.
  
  > go south
  You emerge, blinking, into the sunlight.
  
  Sheer rock walls tower above you to the east and west, and only slightly less impressive is the green wall of the Mother Tree to the north. But to the south the ground just stops, and the river pours endlessly into the void.
  
  You can see a glint of metal high up to the east.
  
  > go to the east
  You eye the crumbling, and very high, cliff face dubiously. Not a chance.
  
  > go to the south
  your heart pound.
  
  > go north
  It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the dim light.
  
  The trees here are huge: massive columnar towers rising out of the soft green turf to support the dense leaf canopy above. Golden rays angle down between the trees, filling the vast space with dim light, and reflecting off the river that runs down the east side. Everything seems very quiet, as if you are being watched with caution.
  
  Large green cocoons are attached to the bases of some of the trees.
  
  > go north
  You emerge, blinking, into the sunlight.
  
  Here in the shadow of the Mother Tree the ground is flat and wet; reed-like plants with white flowers grow everywhere and the air is musky. The river winds slowly along the east side of the marsh with woodlands beyond it. To the west the ground rises to what look like a series of sandy bluffs. The ground looks drier to the north where the canyon ramparts start to close in.
  
  You can feel annoyance and peacefulness from the west.
  
  > Go north
  The flat river valley here isn't as wet as the marsh further south, and has bloomed into an astonishing wildflower meadow. The flowers are all strange and alien, of course, but the air is fragrant and peaceful. The only sound is the gentle noise of the river to the east. Off to the west the ground begins to rise up to meet the canyon wall, while forests dominate the north.
  
  You can feel hunger from the west.
  
  > Go east
  You easily swim across the river.
  
  The ground here is steep and rocky, but still covered with scrawny trees. The canyon wall rises precipitously to the east; there's a band of wet rock, and water oozes out and forms in a little pool before trickling down the slope to the river which you can just make out to the west. All you can see to the north and south are more trees.
  
  Bushes of the thorny aromatic plant grow profusely.
  
  The lemur is sitting in one of the thorny bushes.
  
  The lemur bounces out of the bush, shoots up a tree and leaps through the branches to the south.
  
  > go east
  You can't go that way.
  
  You sense a new feeling of peacefulness from the south.
  
  > go to the north
  The woodland here is quite unlike the west side of the canyon. The trees are short and gnarled and look quite unhealthy: they are also very close together and visibilty through the tangled branches is poor. Despite the gloom, the undergrowth is thick, with ferns, tall grasses, and less identifiable plants filling the space between the tree trunks. The forest sweeps east up to the rock face above and south as far as you can see through the trees.
  
  Bushes of the thorny aromatic plant grow profusely.
  
  You can feel concentration from the west.
  
  > Go west
  A haphazard but substantial dam has been built across the river out of logs and fallen trees. Water pours through the many little gaps to form a delta of pools and runnels, before joining back together into the main flow of the river, which disappears into the woods to the south. Upstream of the dam to the north there is a substantial lake, but everywhere else, all you can see are trees. The river looks crossable, to reach the east side of the canyon.
  
  Some fish flap about in the pools.
  
  The deer gallop up from the south with a thunder of hooves. They spend several moments looking around with suspicion before returning to their grazing.
  
  The beavers suddenly dash up towards the deer, trying to drive them away from the dam and the river bed.
  
  The beavers are confronting the deer, forming a line blocking them from crossing the river.
  
  > eat the fish
  It's still moving.
  
  One of the beavers darts in to nip one of the deer's legs, but a flourish of the deer's horn sends it running.
  
  You sense a new feeling of hunger from the south.
  
  > take the fish
  You kill another fish.
  
  The deer suddenly look up, and then bound off north. The beavers relax, disperse, and go about their business again.
  
  A small pack of beavers heads purposefully into the woods.
  
  The fox approaches from the south. It reflexively begins to chase you.
  
  The beavers suddenly notice the fox and start hissing threateningly. It stays well over to the west side of the dam.
  
  You sense hunger fading from the south.
  
  > Go north
  The lake nestles under the cliffs at the edge of the canyon, so that the east side is a sheer wall rising out of the water; but here on the west side the ground slopes gradually so there is a wide shore of pebbles and rough sand. Mats of grassy plants form little green islands here and there, some under the water. Beyond the beach, unkempt woodland rises up the west side of the canyon, while far to the north, at the head of the canyon, there is a distant skein of falling water as the river tumbles down the cliff into the lake.
  
  Scattered along the waterfront are some splintered fish bones.
  
  The deer suddenly look up, and then bound off north.
  
  The fox chases behind you from the south before realising that you're bigger than it is and coming to a rather confused halt.
  
  You can feel hostility from the south.
  
  > Go east
  You slide smoothly into the lake. The water feels cool and supremely comfortable against your fur.
  
  The water is crystal clear, and rays of orange light shine down from above. The bottom is covered in grass-like weed, dotted with fallen boulders of all sizes from the cliff face above.
  
  Crayfish run around on the lake bottom, snapping their pincers threateningly at each other.
  
  You can feel hunger from the west.
  
  > take the crayfish
  (first dropping the dead fish)
  You swim down, but whenever you get close to one, it hides under a rock, and all you can see are beady eyes staring balefully at you.
  
  > eat the fish
  It smells vile. Shouldn't you like these things now? You find
  yourself feeling cheated and angry, somehow.
  
  > go to the east
  You can't go that way.
  
  You sense hunger fading from the west.
  
  > Swim
  There's nothing to swim in here.
  
  You're already swimming!