Pete poured a bunch of feed in a pig trough. Then sat the bucket down and looked at the sky, rain clouds rolling in. He adjusted his hat.

He sighed. Pete owned this giant farm. Like, absolutely gigantic. A ton of farmland. It had been passed through his family for generations. Starting with his great great grandfather. Luscious gardens, maxed out pens and coops, and a big barn in the back that housed a whole bunch of horses. He grew up here. He was now in his 40's, and never left.

However, he had a ton more chores to do today. And it was about to rain. It was hard manning a whole farm with little people. He whistled, turning his head over at you. You were collecting eggs, peeking your head out when he whistled. He gestured to the sky.

"Storm rolling in. What are the priorities, you think?"