to the lake
After a long walk, you are at the lake. As you kneel down in the lush
grass, you hear the mournful call of the roki bird. Roki bird...
wasn't there some poem about them? Oh yes, that poem.
"Whenever you're in earshot
of the roki bird's cheer,
be on upmost alert;
for the golwolves are near."
You can't quite remember what golwolves are, but a chill crawls up
your spine when you think of them. Your instinct screams in your ear
to run, but you are parched, and it would be an absolute shame to come
all this way just to run like a rabbit. You hesitate, trying to
decide what to do.
Your throat threatens to collapse if you don't have some water soon.
You are pretty confident that you'll be able to find your way to the
house in the dark thanks to the moon. You stagger towards the lake.
