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With the mower hitched behind, the 330 moved with surprising agility. Elias worked the gears, feeling the Perkins engine dig in as they crested the ridge. The short wheelbase made the tight turns near the old stone walls look easy, the tires gripping the damp earth without a slip.
By noon, the sun had burned through the fog. From the cab's wide glass, Elias watched the tall grass fall in neat, fragrant rows. The Axos didn't boast the flashiest tech or the biggest frame, but as the shadows grew long and the final acre was cleared, it hadn't missed a beat.
Patting the steering wheel, Elias headed back toward the farmhouse. The day was done, the work was clean, and the green machine was already ready for tomorrow.
The engine turned over with a confident, rhythmic rumble that shook the dew off the windows. Elias climbed into the cab, the smell of dust and diesel a familiar comfort. Today was for the high meadows—the steep terrain where the bigger machines felt clumsy, but the Axos felt at home.