The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gentle, warm sunlight filters through the worn canvas of a small, rustic farm cart parked by a babbling brook. Uh, the air's filled with the sweet scent of fresh berries and the sound of gentle water flow, as a bunch of small fish swim around in the brook, pecking at tiny rocks for food. Like, nearby, a large woven basket somehow just keeps refilling itself with perfectly gathered bunches of wildflowers, their stems perfectly cut. The air's pretty still with a hint of mild humidity, and it's a calm late morning.