The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a small wooden cart is somehow steadily rolling along a worn dirt path that winds its way through a dense, sun-dappled forest. The air's pretty crisp, with a scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. The cart's unattended, but it's loaded with fresh hay and what looks like a few wicker baskets full of ripe, juicy strawberries. Like, the forest is really quiet, the only sounds being the cart's creaking wheels and the chirping of a few birds up in the treetops.