In the early hours of the morning, a faint light in the window of Three Kings Bakery can be seen. Within, the preparation table, stove and floor appear as if there has been a war between ingredients. A large oat sack leaning against the wall has suffered a few bullet wounds and recipe pages have been fatally pinned to the wall with a dagger. The frustrated-looking woman spinning around the room is covered in oat dust and splashes of milk as she turns to give the boiling pot on the stove a death stare, mumbling something about “fourth try”.
Sweeping a bothersome strand of red hair from her eyes, she peers through the curtain to the newly-cleaned Gangplank. Her expression softens and turns into apparent puzzlement as her eyes affix meaningfully at the two stools by the fireplace. She is not sure why buttered porridge is so important, she is even less sure what all of it has to do with helping Star’s dire situation.
The only things she does know are that the Clockwinder gave specific directions which she would follow…and that she cannot wait to stop cooking and return to her patrol.