---- Recall start ----

You make your way east, down the disintegrating cement path toward the fountain.
Harbor Park Fountain

Cutter wanders along the river bank, strolling across the retaining rocks, 
leaping from one to the other casually as he gazes out over the sluggish, dirty 
water.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 46 degrees 
Farenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the 
southeast at 9 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.90 and steady, and 
the relative humidity is 83 percent. The dewpoint is 41 degrees Farenheit (5 
degrees Celsius.)

The wind picks up for a moment, a light gust of rain sluicing across the water. 
It's a normal, rainy day in the world. Except... out in the river, upstream, 
sometimes seems to be bobbing along in the water. Something fairly small that 
the current's eddies pull to the bank cutter is on.

Cutter frowns and pauses, eyeing the foreign object. A hand lifts from his 
pocket and slides under the breast of his coat as he takes a step closer to
the water.

It's a green glass bottle, corked shut. Your typical river trash, but it's 
bobbing along high in the water, as if empty. The skies continue to spill water 
forth, water dripping off the brim of your hat.

Cutter frowns a little more. He glances around the park, assuring himself of 
its emptiness before he turns back to the river. "Corked..." he mutters.

The bottle nudges up against the bank but scant yards away. The current holds 
it there for a moment before the water starts to carry it closer towards you 
once more, bumping against the shallows here and again.

Cutter reaches out, waggling his fingers subtly at the water as he hops down 
onto the bank.

You whisper "A quick gust of air to drive it onto the land." to Teddy Bear.

The bottle bobs again, wavers in the wind, then wedges itself onto some rocks, 
easily within reach of your grasp. As you get a closer look at it, it's not 
actually empty. There seems to be something inside of it.

Grabbing up the hem of his coat with one hand, to keep it out of the water, he 
snatches up the bottle. Unaware that he's humming the "I Dream of Jeannie" 
theme under his breath, he holds the green glass to the light.

It's something of a pale color and curled up inside, rather like a piece of 
paper. Message in a bottle? Rather cliche, and not the most reliable of 
delivery of methods. Who knows where it would end up? It's in your hands now, 
though.

Cutter grunts. "Can't believe I'm doing this." He pulls out his pocketknife and 
tries to pop the cork.

It doesn't take much to get the cork off. It didn't seem to be in there fairly 
tightly, just enough to keep the water out. A quick glance assures you that the 
object inside is indeed a piece of paper.

Shaking the paper out of the bottle into his palm, he sets the bottle on a rock 
next to the cork. "Hit me," he mutters, unrolling it.

The paper takes a bit more effort than the cork, as it has the annoying 
tendancy to open up once put in the bottle, but it comes out after a few 
seconds. Opening the message, you read the words written upon it in a childish 
scrawl. 'My planet is dying - Please save it'. Raindrops spatter onto the page, 
making the ink run like tears falling to the earth.

Cutter grunts again, popping the paper back into the bottle. "Yours and mine 
both, kid," he says, popping the cork back in tightly.

Cutter tosses the bottle back into the water, and waves it on its journey 
toward the ocean.

The bottle disappears beneath the water for a moment, then bobs back up. 
Perhaps someday, it will reach another person, someone who will join in the 
struggle for the earth's life.

Cutter makes no bets on the odds of that.

---- Recall end ----

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