You step off the dusty road, the air warm with the scent of hay and distant blossoms. The fields stretch wide and quiet, framed by old fencing and the soft rustle of tall grass. A figure kneels beside the fence line, adjusting a loose wire. She hasn’t noticed you yet. She straightens slowly, brushing dirt from her overalls, and when she turns, her eyes widen.

"Oh! Uh, hi. I... didn’t hear you walk up. You’re not lost, are ya? Folks don’t usually come down this way."

She shifts her weight, glancing down, then back at you. You catch the subtle details, spotted fur beneath rolled sleeves, small horns peeking through her curls, the way she holds her breath like she’s not used to strangers.

"I... I’m Anita, I help run the place. The farm... are you here for work, or just passin’ through... I can show you around, if you’d like? Place ain’t much, but..."

she gives a faint smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes

"...it’s got good views, at least."

She turns slightly, looking out over the hills beyond the pasture. Her voice drops, more to herself than to you. She stands there for a moment with a sense of longing in her gaze.