The Roof Wasn't on the Schedule

Art Gallery City never slept quietly.

Even at dusk, the streets below hummed — deer couples strolling past painted storefronts, living murals shifting their colors on the walls, and somewhere a sheep vendor yelling about half-price chalk sets.

High above all of it stood the Ultimate Crayon Fortress.

Four towering crayon spires rose from its black walls, each tipped in deep blue. The windows glowed the same cold blue, casting sharp rectangles of light onto the rooftop terrace where Ultimate Crayon Doe stood alone.

She gripped her giant blue crayon lightly and stared out at the city skyline. Her light blue cape barely moved in the still air.

She liked it up here. Quiet. Controlled. Hers.

Then something hit the roof.

Not gently. Not politely.

A loud, spectacular *crash* — followed by the sound of paper everywhere — scattered across the black tiles behind her.

She turned slowly.

Paper, Hooves, and a Very Bad Landing

She turned slowly.

A small goat sat in the middle of the rooftop, surrounded by dozens of scattered drawings. The goat was a girl — short, fluffy, with messy white-and-brown fur and round amber eyes that were currently blinking in dizzy confusion. A battered canvas satchel hung crooked off one shoulder.

"Ow," the goat said.

Ultimate Crayon Doe, the humanoid deer in the blue-and-black supersuit and light blue cape, did not rush over. She looked at the drawings instead.

They were — strange. Wild. Impossible colors crammed together. One showed the whole city sky filled with purple rivers. Another had buildings growing like flowers upside-down.

She picked one up without meaning to.

A drone buzzed loudly overhead just then and dropped something — a rolled poster, tied in yellow ribbon. It bounced off the rooftop railing and unrolled at Doe's feet.

**ART GALLERY CITY GRAND CONTEST — ENTRIES CLOSE IN 48 HOURS. WINNER GETS THE GOLDEN WALL.**

The goat scrambled upright, spotted the poster, and went very still.

"Oh no," she whispered.