[and here, he chuckles a little, fairly unsurprised by the answer. it's poetic, but also entirely--] Pragmatic, but I wouldn't be the one to judge its validity. After all, some fox out there must've thought the same thing.

[a pause, as he consider his next words carefully.] But for this fox, it was because of what it embodied. For this fox, wheat held no meaning, but once tamed, the golden fields would remind him of the prince's blond hair, and he'll be able to love the whispering of the wind through the fields.