Conquering the Canvas Bastion

The printed map on the floor hinted at paths beyond, but first I needed to conquer the tall summit near the entryway. I dug my talons into the textured fabric of an umbrella stand and hauled myself onto the polished wooden bench. Resting squarely against the wall sat a heavy canvas tote bag, slumped like a collapsed mountain tent. Its thick woven strap dangled over the edge. I braced my sturdy hind legs, lowered my horned snout, and wedged my neck right under the stiff cotton band. With a resounding upward heave, I flipped the loop over my shoulders and hoisted the open mouth of the bag wide. Inside lay a metal thermos and a bundle of keys, gleaming like captured steel. From atop this packed gear, my next outward march is primed.