The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A slow-moving herd of bison grazes lazily on a lush green meadow surrounded by towering, snow-capped mountains. The air's crisp, cool, and dry, with a hint of grass and earth, umm... probably mid-morning judging by the position of the sun in the sky. Like, the sound of their steady munching fills the still air, as they somehow all simultaneously walk towards and then perfectly fit inside a single, large wooden shed, without it getting crowded or seeming to expand or anything. The scent of damp soil and the low hum of a nearby waterfall carry on the breeze.