Scarecrow at Entourage

The scarecrows gathered at the edge of the serene bathhouse, their straw bodies rustling gently in the evening breeze. They had long awaited this moment of communal relaxation after a season of dedicated guarding. As the warm, aromatic water soothed their rough burlap skin, a sense of peace settled over them. They shared quiet whispers, their stitched smiles reflecting in the tranquil surface. Even the crickets seemed to hum a lullaby, celebrating their well-deserved respite. This tranquil bathhouse offered a unique, albeit unusual, form of enjoyment for these silent sentinels.