The room is round. It is slightly cold. There are green and red shelves and a tiny bed. There are many windows but they are blurry and grey and green and red outside.
The forest is dense and blurry like an oil painting. There are rich lights in the distance and smooth sounds. The trees are pine and dark. They sway as I move through them. It is very dark even though it is the day.
There are few obstructions except for the plants which move just as I approach them. The path is narrow and winding. The path is abandoned but it was used a long time ago. The path is visible but only for the few feet in front of me.
The water stops the path. It is dark, cold and moving fast yet silently. It twists and turns gracefully.
The cup is wooden and plain but strangely heavy. It is of good quality and holds lots of water. It is too old and valuable for me.
The key is copper and dirty. It is small and unique from other keys. It seems stangely organic. I think it opens a door in a tree.