Wall of hay is high. Very high. Eirene stares at it for a moment, listening to the sound of a man setting bales on top of each other on the other side, and inhales some of the scent. To be sure; the sweet-smelling food is only one of the many aromas to be found inside a barn (leather polish, horses, manure and other items spring to mind), but she's always liked wheat.

"Okay." She shuffles around to settle on a bale that hasn't been moved yet, basket next to her, and watches for a minute. "Regular speed today. Groovy."