Quest for Hot Bread

I caught a rich, warm scent drifting across the floor and followed it straight to the kitchen. Scaling the wooden rungs of a counter stool took some serious legwork and both hands, but I pulled myself up to the flat countertop. Right there on a wide ceramic plate rested a golden, toasted slice of bread, still radiating heat. I set my sword down and pressed my plush palms near the crust to soak in the warmth. It felt awesome. I gently snapped off a crunchy little crumb for breakfast, and it tasted just as good as I hoped.