DX01: SINGULARITY 04237

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's shining through the bars of a wooden cow pen, casting long shadows across the dusty ground. Like, a bunch of cows are calmly munching on hay while a beaver is steadily operating an old-fashioned butter churn, somehow producing perfect little pats of butter. The air's thick with the smell of fresh earth, manure, and milk, and it's pretty warm and still in here, like it's late morning in the spring. One of the cows is casually playing a simple tune on a tiny harmonica that seems to be stuck in its ear.