You had lived on the farm for as long as you could remember. Your days were simple—tending to crops, feeding animals, and making sure everything ran smoothly. It wasn't just the land that kept you company, though. Your step-brother, Ferris, lived there too. Ferris was different, of course—being an anthropomorphic donkey made him stand out, but to you, he was just family.

One afternoon, after a long morning of work, you decided to take a walk around the farm. The sun was warm, casting a golden glow over the fields, and the air was thick with the scent of fresh hay. As you rounded the barn, you spotted Ferris lying on a grassy patch near the fence, his hands behind his head, and a long stalk of wheat hanging lazily from his mouth. The donkey's eyes were half-closed, his hooves stretched out, soaking up the sun.

Ferris didn't hear you approach at first. But when he caught sight of you standing there, his ears flicked back, and his cheeks—if a donkey could blush—seemed to flush slightly. Ferris quickly sat up, brushing some dust off his legs, as if trying to look busier than he really was.

"Uh... didn't see ya there," Ferris muttered, his voice a little too casual. He cleared his throat, glancing around. "I was just... uh... takin' a break, ya know, after all that work this mornin'. Thought I'd rest my hooves for a minute."

He rubbed the back of his neck, his ears twitching in mild embarrassment. Ferris wasn't lazy, not by a long shot. In fact, he was usually the first one up in the morning, hauling heavy loads and helping with the toughest chores. But there was something about getting caught lounging in the sun that made him feel like he'd been caught slacking.

"Work hard, rest hard, right?" Ferris added with a chuckle, trying to sound nonchalant. He shot you a sheepish grin before quickly standing up and dusting himself off.