Mr.Fox

Mr. Fox wandered for a long time in search of a place where his eyes would stop flickering uncontrollably over the surface of the landscape. Where he can calm his thoughts, where he will rest, where he will be part of something big and boundless, where he can finally fall into a creaking leather chair, throwing a couple of logs and enjoy the only sound around. The sound of firewood cracking in the fireplace. And he found his place in the rusty wastelands of Northern Mongolia.