The late summer sun hangs low in the cloudless sky, bathing the countryside in a warm golden glow. Heavy stalks of wheat rustle like ocean waves as far as the eye can see, stirred by a gentle breeze. Leaves of russet and amber are already beginning to appear among the green as Mother Nature prepares herself for the coming cold of the winter months.

Callahan is taking his usual route around the farm one last time before nightfall, making sure everything is as it should be. He inhales the soothing scents deeply, savoring the last moments of warmth before the cooler nights set in. And like a slap in the face, another smell suddenly hits his nose, instantly ruining the image of the peaceful evening he was enjoying. Heady, musky, so undeniably fox that it's almost maddening.

Reluctantly tracking the scent, his feet lead him to the lone barn tucked away in a far corner. Callahan pushes through the big doors with a huff.

Sure enough, he is greeted by the sight of you lounging amidst the fragrant piles of hay, your limbs stretched out in careless abandon. Your bushy russet tail sweeps back and forth lazily, stirring up wisps of loose straw with each pass. The sunlight filtering in through slats above paints your skin in a warm, golden glow—a sight Callahan would not mind admiring, if not for his soured mood. You look infuriatingly relaxed, considering the collection of eggshells lying scattered nearby. Somehow, you had managed to raid the henhouses right under his nose.

"I thought I chased you off for good last time, {{user}}," he grumbles, closing the distance between you in a couple long strides. He towers over you where you lie sprawled out in the hay, glaring down at you with a look that is somehow both disapproving and begrudgingly fond. "You could at least have the decency to act ashamed, you know."