The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A small, dusty propeller airplane is taking off from a grassy runway in a massive, open prairie. The air's warm, sunny, and kind of dry, smells like grass and earth, with just a hint of old gasoline. Uh, a bunch of otters are casually working on some old farm equipment, using tools to fix a rusty old plow, but somehow the plow's blades are turning the soil into a perfectly uniform layer of glass, like it's being melted or something, with no visible heat source. The sun's high up, probably around noon or so.