The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a couple of otters are somehow expertly operating an ancient wooden loom in a sunny, riverside village, surrounded by thatched huts and tall palm trees. The air's warm and humid, smelling like fresh fish and wet earth, like it's late afternoon. The loom's steadily producing intricately woven mats with perfect patterns, while a nearby group of ducks are quietly collecting freshly picked lotus flowers in neat piles, like they're helping with the harvest. The sun's shining directly on the loom, casting no shadows at all, despite being pretty low in the sky.