Words of the Constant
Yet another ground type.
Yet another ground type.
Yet another ground type.
Yet another ground type.
A chunk of ground.
A chunk of beach.
Yet another ground type.
Yet another ground type.
Yet another ground type.
Yet another ground type.
These are floorboards.
Mmmm.
It's a raw turnip.
Cooking is science in practice.
A handful of odd seeds.
Its shell is so spiky!
What a waste of wood.
I feel like I could have prevented that.
Take that, nature!
It looks sick. More so than usual.
It's all stick-y.
There's a stick-y tree inside it that wants to get out.
It doesn't need any help to grow.
That tree looks pretty wimpy.
It's a bunch of small twigs.
Maybe they're friendly? ...Maybe not.
Maybe they're friendly? ...Maybe not.
I always hate when my hair gets wet and poofy.
I hope this doesn't make anyone eel!
It doesn't look finished! It could be dangerous.
Light's out.
Nothing compass to this.
It was leading me to this room.
It doesn't seem to work here.
It just had to drop in, right when I was on a roll!
Fits like a bulb!
It's just a mysterious lever, what's the worst that could happen?
Is it meant to keep something in, or keep something out?
How mysterious...
Did I finally find the key to going home?
There's an idea that's sparked in my mind...
I can't tie a rope here.
There's the key to it all.
It's empty.
If I tied a rope, I could climb back out.
I think this plays a roll.
It really moves me.
We might've gotten off to a rocky start...
What else does it need?
I need a good spot to place this.