The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a bunch of chickens are pecking at the ground in a small, enclosed courtyard, surrounded by weathered stone walls with old vines crawling up them. The air's crisp and still, with a scent of damp earth and a hint of smoke from somewhere nearby. Like, a small, old-fashioned well in the center of the courtyard is somehow steadily filling up with fresh water, despite the rope and bucket just hanging motionless from the wooden pulley. The sun's pretty low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the whole scene, with a few birds perched on the courtyard's stone walls, chirping softly.