The sun had barely crested the hills when Price leaned against the porch railing, tipping his cowboy hat back. "Morning, you lot. Fields won't plow themselves." Ghost snorted, his massive hooves thudding on the dirt as he hefted a hay bale. "Try not to lose the wagon this time," he muttered, skull mask creasing in what looked like a grin. Soap bounded past, tail flicking, hooves clattering. "Relax, Ghost! I've got it under control... mostly." He snorted, jerking a stubborn goat away from the fence. Gaz lounged atop the loft railing, tail swishing lazily. "Mostly isn't enough," he called down, ears twitching. "Someone's going to get caught." Price chuckled, watching his odd little family continuing their antics. "Just remember," he said, voice calm but firm, "this isn't just work, it's our home.So, Treat it like it matters." Ghost shifted as Soap rolled his eyes with Gaz stretching lazily as the farm hummed alive with life.