text: [Themes: Slice of life, Fantasy, slice of life, gender-neutral protagonist, animal NPC]
  
  > Go downwards
  The trail turns west as it descends.
  
  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.
  
  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 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. You could probably use it to get across. (One of those little coincidences that makes your life a little nicer.)
  
  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 afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  > 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.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > Unlock shed
  What do you want to unlock the old shed with?
  
  > Key
  The lock is stiff. You give the key a jerk; the latch scrapes, and the door swings open.
  
  That's odd. The steel key doesn't seem as rusty as you first thought.
  
  > Go east
  You step hesitantly into the darkness.
  
  You feel the hollow darkness of an enclosed space. To the west, an oblong of flat grey half-light betrays the doorway. Nothing else is visible.
  
  > 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 pair of large canvas bags is piled untidily here. One is rather dirty; the other has a tear along one seam, from which sand dribbles onto the ground.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > get torn
  You heave the torn sandbag, awkwardly, up into your arms. You manage to do it without straining the torn cloth further.
  
  The afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  It is dark.
  
  > Go west
  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 open to the unrelieved darkness within.
  
  A no-time, eternal instant of light lances through you, snapping your mind to silence. Simultaneously the silence is broken by a
  
  Crack!
  
  of thunder. It is echoed by a splintering crash from the north.
  
  Afterimages hang around you in a greenish glare. You blink furiously, trying to sort out the shadows from what's really there.
  
  > Go north
  You heft the torn sandbag, considering your balance. You stretch a foot towards the bush, shift your weight, and take two quick steps. The bush trembles but holds.
  
  A bush is growing out of 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.
  
  A heavy branch seems to have been blown from the tree. It lies on the ground nearby. One end is still burning.
  
  Runoff water is flowing down the hillside here. It puddles on the ledge, behind the fallen tree.
  
  The runoff water begins to spill out from behind the tree, down the southwest path.
  
  The afterimages evaporate into a black dazzle.
  
  The voices surge, then fade.
  
  > Go southwest
  The trail turns west as it descends.
  
  The trickle of rainwater coming down the east path gains strength. Rapidly it becomes a small torrent.
  
  > go north
  The trickle of runoff coming down the south path gains strength. Rapidly it becomes a small torrent.
  
  The runoff water is pouring down to the stream, right over the bridge pilings. The muddy earth below the bridge is wearing away.
  
  The voices surge, and you realize the sounds comes from the west, from the other side of the stream. And they are coming closer. You are very sure, suddenly, that you do not want them to reach you.
  
  > drop torn
  You lower the torn sandbag to the ground, trying not to strain it.
  
  The runoff water is backing up behind the torn sandbag.
  
  You jerk as a shape darts past you. Wild orange fury -- it's the fox, hurtling up onto the bridge like an avenging spirit. The fox crouches on the wet planks and stares fiercely out to the west.
  
  The distant murmur of voices, across the bridge, seems closer now.
  
  > Go east
  The trail turns southeast as it climbs.
  
  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.