The Morning Canvas

Ms. Paintbrush Deer stepped onto the balcony of her fortress home in Paintbrush Thicket, stretching her arms toward the morning sun. The light brown fur on her face caught the golden rays as she adjusted her glowing blue mask.

"Another beautiful day in Canvas Wood City," she said, watching the humans and deer folk below starting their morning routines.

Her giant magic paintbrush leaned against the stone railing, its bristles still damp with yesterday's rainbow paint. The glowing paint splats on her black dress pulsed softly like tiny heartbeats.

A delivery truck rumbled past on the street below, its horn honking cheerfully. Ms. Paintbrush Deer waved at the driver, a friendly badger who always smiled when he saw her.

She picked up her phone to check the morning news. Everything looked normal—school children heading to class, shop owners opening their doors, street artists setting up their easels in the town square.

But something felt different today. The air seemed heavier somehow, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong.

The Silent Morning

Ms. Paintbrush Deer stepped down from her balcony and walked through the fortress courtyard. Her hooves clicked against the stone as she headed toward the main gate.

"Time to check on the city," she said, adjusting her glowing blue mask.

The streets outside seemed normal at first. A jogger ran past, breathing hard from her morning exercise. The human woman had dark brown hair tied in a ponytail and wore bright red running shoes.

But something was wrong with the jogger's face. Her expression looked completely blank, almost sleepy.

Ms. Paintbrush Deer walked further into the city center. More people moved around, but they all shared the same strange, empty look. A baker stood in his shop doorway, staring at nothing. Children walked to school without talking or laughing.

Then she saw it. Every single flower in the park had turned gray. The bright red mailboxes were now dull silver. Even the yellow school bus looked like it was made of ash.

"The colors," she whispered, her light blue hair catching the morning breeze. "Someone's stealing all the colors from Canvas Wood City."

She gripped her giant magic paintbrush tighter, watching as more vibrant things around her slowly faded to lifeless gray.