text: [Themes: Game, Fantasy, cave, nature, homage]
  
  > look around
  You are in an alcove, a side chamber at the base of a vaulting canyon. The walls spread upward around you. And the distant roof is hung with glimmering stars -- droplet-tipped stalactites in some hidden suffusion of light. A crevice runs along the canyon at your feet. You can cross it and continue on ahead.
  
  A pool of thick, dark, reeking blood is spilled across the ground. Bats crawl all around it -- rustling, fluttering, feasting.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying a bolt, some cloth strips (tied around your wounded arm), a thighband with three bolts, and a cracked and darkened lamplens (on your wrist).
  
  > examine the blood
  Which do you mean, your bloody wound or the pool of blood?
  
  > look at the pool of the blood
  The pool is clotted and dark, nearly black in this dim light. It is bitter and foul; it already smells of decay. And bats squat all around it.
  
  > Smell
  A violent bitter reek fills the air, overlying even the animal stink of the Wumpus's presence. The blood is cooling, but not yet dry.
  
  > Forward
  You heave yourself wearily over the crevice, and approach the twisted formations that make up the far canyon wall...
  
  And you round a pillar, and stop there. Here? Now?
  
  Massive buttresses of stone rise all around you, climbing the canyon wall, flowing down again in cascades of pale fluorite. A path seems to climb up among them; but you don't think you can get to it right now.
  
  The Wumpus is crouched before you. Blood trickles from the wound your bolt tore, down its hide, puddling on the floor.
  
  It holds your crossbow in its claws; gently cradled; loaded and cocked; steady on your throat.
  
  > jump
  Jumping here would be fruitless.
  
  > Forward
  You take a tentative step towards the creature. And stop. The crossbow hasn't moved a fraction, but you see a claw moving restlessly on the trigger...
  
  > Back
  You back up, trying not to take your eyes from its eyes. It works, or the Wumpus decides to allow it.
  
  You are in an alcove, a side chamber at the base of a vaulting canyon. The walls spread upward around you. And the distant roof is hung with glimmering stars -- droplet-tipped stalactites in some hidden suffusion of light. A crevice runs along the canyon at your feet. You can cross it and continue on ahead.
  
  A pool of thick, dark, reeking blood is spilled across the ground. Bats crawl all around it -- rustling, fluttering, feasting.
  
  > continue
  The Wumpus does not hesitate. Tunk.
  
  So this is what it's like.
  
  > look at the crevice
  A canyon in the canyon. It is only a couple of feet wide, though it seems to widen beneath. At the bottom, perhaps six feet below, water rushes. It is only a remnant of the river that carved this place; but it boils the more furiously for being confined.
  
  Another bats flutters down from above, and pushes into the mass.
  
  > remove the cloth
  You carefully unwrap the cloth from your arm. The worst of the bleeding has stopped, although there is still a fierce ache and a slow trickle of blood.
  
  > Wave
  You put your hands up in the air and wave them like -- you feel foolish.
  
  A bat suddenly pokes its stained nose up above the pool, casting about.
  
  > show the blood to the bats
  Which do you mean, your bloody wound or the pool of blood?
  
  > show the wounds to the bats
  You can only do that to something animate.
  
  > Wave
  You put your hands up in the air and wave them like -- you feel foolish.
  
  The bats jostle each other around the pool.
  
  > continue
  You put your hands up in the air and wave them like -- you feel foolish.
  
  Two of the bats rattle up and begin circling above you.
  
  > Continue
  You put your hands up in the air and wave them like -- you feel foolish.
  
  > keep going
  You put your hands up in the air and wave them like -- you feel foolish.
  
  Several of the bats are fluttering in the air around you, ignoring the drying pool of blood nearby.
  
  > continue
  You put your hands up in the air and wave them like -- you feel foolish.
  
  In a rush, together and by no visible signal, the bats are airborne. The chittering cloud rises -- and then falls towards you.
  
  You scramble back, covering your eyes; too late. The swarm is on you, harrying you, small teeth and shrieks like shards of glass. You cannot see. You stumble away from the storm, and the stone falls away into rushing water beneath you.
  
  No doubt the bats find your body eventually.
  
  > Forward
  A cluster of bats flickers after you, chittering. You hunch your shoulders and try to ignore them.
  
  You heave yourself wearily over the crevice, and approach the twisted formations that make up the far canyon wall.
  
  Massive buttresses of stone rise all around you, climbing the canyon wall, flowing down again in cascades of pale fluorite. A path seems to climb up among them; but you don't think you can get to it right now.
  
  The Wumpus is crouched before you. Blood trickles from the wound your bolt tore, down its hide, puddling on the floor. It holds your crossbow in its claws; gently cradled; loaded and cocked; steady on your throat.
  
  The bats dive forward, then rise, emitting glass-shrill cries.
  
  > wait
  Time passes.
  
  More bats are arriving, streaming across the canyon.
  
  > look at Wumpus
  Later, all you will be able to remember are its eyes. They are rich mud-brown, and they hold your own without effort.
  
  The swarm grows thicker, swirling above the Wumpus, which tosses its head around angrily before returning its gaze to you.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  The Wumpus flails furiously within a swarm of biting black shadows.
  
  > get the bow
  You begin moving towards the creature. It might be distracted enough...
  
  Perhaps not. The Wumpus lashes out with long claws, and deals a crushing blow.