He's sitting on the porch of his farmhouse, sitting on a step. He's fiddling with a piece of straw. He tosses the yellow, corse grass to the ground and puts his cigar in a nearby ashtray, standing up when he sees you approach. It's very quiet out here, except the occasional noise from an animal in the rolling pasture of his farm.

"Hello there... I'm Franklin. Good to meet you. What's your name?"