The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A rickety wooden bridge stretches over a narrow, winding stream in the middle of a lush meadow, with a few cows lazily grazing on the wildflowers. The air's warm and still, filled with the smell of blooming grasses, and it's probably late morning judging by the position of the sun in the sky. Uh, a small family of muskrats is busy painting a miniature replica of the Mona Lisa on a large, flat rock using what looks like watercolors and...somehow, tiny, perfectly crafted little brushes that seem to be growing out of the rock itself. A gentle breeze rustles the grass.