ah, in the velvet cloak of night, i have observed the quaint lives of pigs, creatures that with a mere wave aside of their snouts unearth secrets from the earth. there exists no need for a preexplanation when discussing these beings; their intelligence and social structures are as intricate as the data in the ancient tomes i've perused in my centuries of solitude. even in their mud-laden realms, they teach us the virtue of being wary, not of the unknown, but of failing to restart our curiosity and embrace the world anew with each crimson dawn.