text: [Themes: Children's, Alternate History, child protagonist, dinosaurs, polynesia]
  
  > look around
  You are floating holding onto a crate in what seems like the dead center of the storm. Eruera is beside you, grimacing with pain and taking shallow breaths as he holds on as well. The wind shoves the crate around where it will, dragging you along in its wake. You might be able to influence its direction, but your legs are really tired and you're not sure you have the strength.
  
  Eruera is here alongside you, face twisted in pain and desperately clinging to the crate.
  
  > ask Eruera about about shore
  You try to get Eruera's attention, and at first he fails to respond. After long moments, he gasps in pain. "Can't understand you!" he calls. "Must... get to shore..."
  
  He seems to lose focus on the rest of what you were saying.
  
  Thunder crashes as the storm rolls on.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying nothing.
  
  You can't help wondering whether you're going to live through this. You fight down a rising sense of panic.
  
  > Swim east
  "Hold on," you yell to Eruera over the howling of the wind. You can't really muster up much hope that you'll make it to shore, but at least you've got something to cling to, and you're not alone. That's way, way better than where you were a couple of minutes ago. You start kicking, trying to push the crate in a direction -- any direction. You can't tell whether you're making any progress. Eruera tries to encourage you, but his words are cut apart by the storm and garbled by your own exhaustion, and you can't make sense of what he's saying.
  
  You keep kicking until your legs fail. You rest, then try again, a cycle that gets shorter and shorter as you slowly run out of energy. All of a sudden, an unexpectedly violent surge of the sea tears you loose from the crate, and in a strange calm you briefly slip under the waves before kicking upwards again with leaden feet. By the time you reorient yourself, the crate is out of reach, scudding just ahead of you before the wind. It's so close... but you have nothing left in your legs, and you can't quite reach Eruera's arm as he stretches out towards you. Slowly, unstoppably, the distance increases, carrying the crate into the dark and leaving you behind. The last thing you see is Eruera straining toward you, trying to yell something over the fury of the storm. But the thunder, wind, and rain drown his voice and he finally disappears into the gloom.
  
  Alive...
  
  You must be alive -- you feel too miserable to be dead. Despite your aching leg muscles and the burning sensation in your lungs you'd rather stay unconscious -- if it weren't for the surf slapping your face every few seconds, making you choke and splutter. Very reluctantly, you shove yourself up the beach a bit farther to get away from the tide. After what seems like another hour, you open your stinging eyes and look around. You're on a strand of black sand in a shallow bay, and the lying sky is now innocent blue and filled with harmless-looking, puffy clouds.
  
  You stand on a thin strip of black sand lining the shallow curve of a bay to the east. A few seabirds fly overhead, and various clumps of driftwood, seaweed, and other shore debris litter the shore, the only visible evidence of the recent storm. A steep tumble of volcanic rock looms over the beach to the west and south, blocking travel in all directions except into the forest to the north.
  
  You slowly stagger to your feet, your battered body and abused muscles protesting all the while. You look around with a dull stare, not really understanding yet what you're seeing and unsure what to make of the black beach you stand upon. You wonder what happened to Eruera.
  
  > About yourself
  You're a bit taller than average for your age, with dark brown hair and green eyes. Your clothes are heavy with salt and you can taste it on your lips. Your skin feels raw and your muscles are stiff and sore. But you're alive, and nothing's broken.
  
  > go to the east
  Only the waters of the wide bay lie in that direction. And you've had enough of swimming for a lifetime.
  
  > go north
  The black sand beach transitions to stones and boulders here as the seashore lifts into the black cliffs. To the northwest a break in the volcanic stone leads upwards and into the depths of the forest. Where the water eddies at the north end of the beach a collection of light, floating junk has collected.
  
  A green plastic bucket is washed up on shore here.
  
  > examine the junk
  As you approach the floating junk, you notice a few interesting things. There are some shredded pieces of rope tangled around some crate splinters and seaweed, and a crumpled wad of what looks to be a ripped piece of tent fabric bobs here as well.
  
  > examine the bucket
  The bucket is made out of green plastic. Unfortunately, it has a small hole on the bottom. The bucket is currently empty.
  
  > look at the tent
  A long strip of thick tent fabric. Despite the abuse it's suffered, it seems tough.
  
  > Go south
  You stand on a thin strip of black sand lining the shallow curve of a bay to the east. A few seabirds fly overhead, and various clumps of driftwood, seaweed, and other shore debris litter the shore, the only visible evidence of the recent storm. A steep tumble of volcanic rock looms over the beach to the west and south, blocking travel in all directions except into the forest to the north.
  
  > go south
  Steep rocks block your path in that direction. It doesn't look like you'd be able to climb them.
  
  > Go north
  The black sand beach transitions to stones and boulders here as the seashore lifts into the black cliffs. To the northwest a break in the volcanic stone leads upwards and into the depths of the forest. Where the water eddies at the north end of the beach a collection of light, floating junk has collected.
  
  Shreds of what used to be a thick rope are here, washed up on the rocks at the north end of the beach and coated in black sand grains.
  
  > go to the north-west
  Low bushy ferns give way to towering kauri trees here. Their delicate cones and thin, green leaves cast deeper shadows as the forest thickens to the northeast. A steep break in the cliff rock here leads southeast, down to the beach, and a faint animal trail leads into the forest to the northeast.
  
  > take the rope
  The remains of the rope are soggy and useless, and you end up just giving up and dropping the slimy shreds back onto the beach.
  
  > go to the north-east
  Alone? The forest looks dangerous, and you might get lost! You don't know anything about how to survive in there, and you don't know what kind of wild life to expect or even where you should go. Maybe it would be better to wait on the beach and try to signal rescue, or at least talk to Eruera about it. If you can find him and he's still alive.
  
  > search junk
  You sift through the junk carefully, but you've already picked out the only items that would likely be useful.
  
  > Go south
  You stand on a thin strip of black sand lining the shallow curve of a bay to the east. A few seabirds fly overhead, and various clumps of driftwood, seaweed, and other shore debris litter the shore, the only visible evidence of the recent storm. A steep tumble of volcanic rock looms over the beach to the west and south, blocking travel in all directions except into the forest to the north.
  
  > search debris
  You start to pick through the pile of junk, and suddenly realize there's a body buried beneath! It's lying still, but you can just barely see its chest rise and fall. Moving as carefully as you can, you remove the splintered boards and assorted wreckage, until you expose the face. It's Eruera!
  
  The jostling of debris disturbs him, and his eyes slowly open, flakes of dried salt falling from his eyelids. You can't bear to look at his face -- he's in too much agony. It takes a long minute before he becomes aware enough of his surroundings to recognize you.
  
  "Tim, is that you?" he croaks. "I guess we made it."
  
  He doesn't smile, barely even sounds interested. It's obvious he's going to need help quickly.
  
  > examine Eruera
  Eruera looks pretty bad -- he's soaked with seawater and moaning in pain, and not really fully aware. Despite everything, he's still desperately holding on to what you recognize as one of the broken boards from the crate. His left leg in particular looks really painful -- it doesn't seem to be as straight as it should, and it's swollen to almost grotesque size.
  
  > examine the leg
  Eruera's leg looks terrible. It looks like the top part is fine, but his left leg is broken below the knee, and it looks as if it's a pretty bad break. His leg is bent at an unnatural angle, although it's swollen so huge that you can't judge just how far it's bent.
  
  > ask Eruera about the leg
  You approach Eruera as he lies on the beach.
  
  "Eruera, I... I want to talk to you about..." You trail off. It's obvious he's not going to understand. But he does react to the sound of your voice.
  
  He draws in a hissing breath. "My leg... Help..."
  
  "Well, I found this board," you say, holding it out so he can see. "And there are some more over in the pile. I also found this piece of tent fabric. Seems pretty strong to me. Will these work?"
  
  Eruera nods quickly. "Those... should work."
  
  He rallies and becomes a bit more coherent, speaking with forced precision. "Tim, I think my left leg is badly broken. It needs to be straightened. I'll brace myself; you pull my leg straight toward you as hard as you can. After that you can splint it."
  
  > pull the leg
  Eruera braces himself, and you hesitate just a moment before taking a firm grip on his ankle. Trying not to think about it, you pull as hard as you can, throwing your weight into extending his leg as Eruera screams in pain. Just when you're sure you're not strong enough -- that this was all for nothing -- you feel his leg shift. Eruera lets out such a piercing shriek of agony that you let go of his leg in surprise, falling backwards onto the wet sand. But when you struggle back up, you see that Eruera's leg looks like it's straight again. Still horribly swollen, but straight.
  
  Eruera himself lies flat on his back, panting in exhaustion. "Good... Good job, Tim... Tn koe..."
  
  > Splint leg
  Working quickly, you brace Eruera's leg with the wood, tying the splint securely with scraps of tent fabric. Eruera hisses in pain as you pull, but also nods a quick jerk of approval through clenched teeth. You finish the knot.
  
  Eruera tests the splint -- gingerly at first, but with more confidence as he sees how it holds up. "Good work, Tim!"
  
  > talk to him
  You walk up to Eruera where he lies near the pile of debris.
  
  "Eruera, can I talk to you about..." He cuts you off with a wave of his hand and swallows painfully.
  
  "Please, Tim. I'm so thirsty I can barely think. Please bring me some water first and then we can talk."
  
  You take stock of your possessions and realize you don't have anything suitable. "OK, Eruera. I'll try to find something."
  
  >"Eruera, could you just...." He interrupts again.
  
  "Please, Tim. I need water badly. We can talk afterwards."
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a leaky bucket, currently empty