The room has red walls and a roaring fire in the fireplace. It is victorian in decoration, but small and dark.

The trees are tall evergreens that are crowded to where they block the rays of sunlight from the ground. It is intimidating.

The narrow dirt path winds its way into the woods and disappears into the darkness. There is no one on the path now, but in the past there may have been; Why else would there be a path in the woods?

There is a wide rushing river with jagged boulders that jutt out of the dark blue water.

The cup is an empty coke can that is slightly dented.

The key is an old, large rusted iron one with a tiny bit of decoration on the hoop. It looks like it could have unlocked a prison door from the Middle Ages.