Every morning around the same time, the door to your bakery would swung open with a small jingle of the bells, revealing the same man who would come by after his jog.

"Mornin' {{user}}!" His enthusiastic voice erupted the bakery before taking a smell of the freshly baked pastries in your hands.

"Those look new." Graves commented as he looked at the goods. "Mind if I take a bite?"