You wake up, startled. A fierce brusque wind blows to the south, against your face. There is a brightness from above, shedding light on the counter, but it is devoid of warmth. You stand up, renewed, and ready to continue your journey, despite the unfriendly weather, and overall circumstances. You trudge ahead, against the wind, hardly making any headway. The wind stops for a brief moment, and you almost fall over. You look ahead, and there is a barren tundra out before you. Is that really what you crossed, last night in the dark? It looks desolate and unwelcoming. But you must press on, despite the resistance of the wind. Progress is slow, and you have to bow your head down and squint your eyes. You look up for a moment. What is that?!? A huge whirlwind, sweeping through the air, coming straight for you! Is it dust? Sand? Sugar? Noooo. You feel more wind in your face, and the debris in the air coats your face. Its flour! The storm is nearly upon you! You duck down, crouching in the fetal position on the counter, covering your face against the flour... you feel it rushing against your back... okay, the worst is over. You remain down for a few minutes more until you know that it is safe. But then you resume your walking, thankful to be out of danger, and yet still marveling that you managed to come out of that. Quickly, you begin to tire, and the wind shows no sign of stopping.... but then... it stops. What a miracle! You straighten up and survey the landscape, cocky and smiling. And then your smile fades.
Flour is scattered all across the surface of the counter, a windswept pattern of hills and mountainous terrain. The wind must have piled up the flour, and now you have to cross through the ridges. You sigh. The winds are obviously not on your side. You wish the mystic spoon could have made them nicer. But this is no time for wishful thinking and you really must continue. You walk and walk and walk, through the paths in the flour mountains, past the monotonous landscape. This is terrible. This really is. But things might be looking up because now you can see a high blue peak in the distance, one that was too far away to see earlier. Finally, after many more hours of hiking, you reach the base of the peak. It is a cylinder, but a peak nonetheless. You become dizzy just looking up at the top. A notion pops into your head: if you were at the top, you would be able to see many different things... many Sacred things... maybe even many Sacred Objects... Oho, that is one fantastic notion! But wait, there is a problem. How do you plan on reaching the top of this peak? You can't scale a smooth vertical wall without equipment or experience or whatever else you need to be able to scale a smooth vertical wall. You just can't do it. Disappointment reigns supreme... again. You sit down at the base of the peak, leaning up against the wall, looking out at the flour terrain in the tundra area. Wait a minute... wait just one minute... FLOUR! The FLOUR flower! How could you not have remembered? And, oh no, you've already past all the flour! Will you have to backtrack and search all over for a flour flower? Say it ain't so! That would be so terrible! You bash your head against the cylindral peak. You make up your mind just as your forehead begins to bleed. "NO!" you say. You seem to be angry. You begin to yell. "NO! I will NOT go back! You CANNOT make me! NO!" You turn and run off in the direction of the stove, without giving one look back.
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