Morning Routine

Draw Lion stretched his powerful arms as morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows of his headquarters. The fortress walls, built from giant paintbrushes and oversized pencils, cast colorful shadows across the marble floor. He walked past the four magnificent lioness statues that guarded the entrance, their stone eyes seeming to follow his every move.

"Another peaceful day in Canvas Pride City," he said, adjusting his bright blue gloves. His amber eyes scanned the city beyond the windows, where humans and fellow humanoid lions were already bustling about their daily routines.

Draw Lion moved to his morning patrol checklist, a habit he'd maintained for three years of protecting the city. First, he'd fly a quick circle around the arts district. Then check on the main supply warehouses. Finally, visit the community art centers where children gathered for their classes.

He stepped onto his balcony, ready to take flight, when something caught his enhanced vision. In the distance, one of the art supply trucks looked oddly empty.

The Empty Delivery

Draw Lion launched himself from the balcony, his blue cape streaming behind him as he soared toward the suspicious truck. His amber eyes focused on the vehicle parked outside Murphy's Art Emporium, the city's largest supply store.

Landing softly beside the truck, he peered through the open back doors. Empty. Completely empty. The metal floor showed faint outlines where boxes of paint tubes and brush sets should have been.

"Excuse me!" called a voice from behind him.

Draw Lion turned to see a young baker approaching, flour still dusting her dark green apron. The woman had shoulder-length brown hair pulled back in a messy bun, worried brown eyes, and looked about twenty-five years old.

"I'm Sarah Jenkins from the bakery across the street," she said, pointing to a cheerful shop with painted window boxes. "I saw you investigating the truck. Something strange happened this morning."

"What did you see?" Draw Lion asked.

"The delivery driver arrived like usual at six-thirty, but when he opened the truck, he just stared inside for five minutes. Then he drove off without unloading anything. I thought it was odd because Murphy always gets his supplies on Tuesdays."

Draw Lion's enhanced hearing picked up similar conversations happening throughout the arts district. Empty trucks. Confused drivers. Missing supplies everywhere.