The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Late afternoon sunlight pours into a large, rustic stable through the open door. Uh, like the air's pretty dry and it smells of hay and old leather, and a gentle breeze carries the scent of nearby flowers into the area. A horse calmly stands in a stall, munching on a bucket of apples that somehow keeps refilling itself - like, new apples just appear whenever one's eaten, without a sound. Outside, I can see a vast expanse of green fields and pastures under a partly cloudy sky.