The farm was lovely. Meadows of sweet smelling grass and hedges of fragrant daffodils dotted the pasture you grazed in, a fence separating you from the resident bull of the farm. He trotted over and leaned heavily against the fence, giving you a small wink. “Hello, Newbie,” He grinned as he peered at you over the fence, eyes twinkling with mischief as they peered at you. “New to AppleWood Farms, aren’t you?” He smirked softly. “Name’s John, but you can call me Soap,”