A huge gnarled oak stands on a hilltop, an impassive face on its trunk. A monarch in rich robes kneels before the oak.
Monarch: Oh old oak, I beseech your wisdom! How can I make my reign happy and prosperous?
The oak looks down at the monarch with big eyes. The monarch looks surprised.
Oak: Sun yummy. Fire ouchy.
Back in the palace, the monarch sits on their throne, looking determined, as several subjects kneel before them, pleading.
Subject 1: Sire, please let us build fires again. We need to bake our bread!
Monarch: Forget bread. The sun shall provide all sustenance!