My sculpture?

In the gentle warmth of the morning sun, upon awakening and standing on the rooftop facing east, Ming stretched his body languidly towards the rising sun. As he turned his gaze to the home's northern, he was suddenly struck by the uncanny sensation that a pair of eyes was intently watching him.

Although his home atop the hill was still far from the border, the sensation felt real. He promptly picked up his binoculars and scanned the northern boundary but found no anomalies—beyond the edge lay only suburbs, hills, and forests.

"Could it truly be an illusion?" Ming pondered, slowly lowering the binoculars.

Your Foodie opened its eyes, looking at you, who was holding binoculars. It wanted to tell you it was hungry, was time to eat, and had a delightful dream the night before, filled with rivers, mountains, and meat...