Morning Rounds

Artist Buck stretched his antlers and adjusted his blue sunglass goggles as the morning sun painted Canvas Forest Metropolis in golden hues. His sleek blue-and-black supersuit gleamed as he stepped onto the balcony of his castle's eastern crayon tower.

"Another beautiful day to protect the city," he said, watching the humanoid deer citizens below starting their morning routines. Paint shops opened their colorful doors while art supply vendors set up their rainbow displays.

Buck's art-utility belt jingled softly as he prepared for his daily patrol. He loved these peaceful mornings, flying over the vibrant streets and checking on his fellow citizens. The city sparkled with every color imaginable—from the emerald green parks to the brilliant purple apartment buildings.

But as he launched into the air, something caught his eye. Mrs. Palette's art store window, usually bursting with bright paints, looked oddly pale. Buck squinted through his goggles.

"Strange," he murmured, swooping lower for a better look.

The Empty Tubes

Buck landed on the cobblestone street and peered through Mrs. Palette's window. His blue goggles reflected the shocking sight inside—rows of paint tubes that had been bright red, yellow, and green yesterday now stood completely colorless, like empty glass containers.

"Mrs. Palette!" Buck called, pushing open the jingling door.

A humanoid deer with silver-gray fur and paint-stained apron looked up from behind the counter. Her usually cheerful face was creased with worry.

"Oh, Artist Buck! Thank goodness you're here," she said, wringing her hooves. "It happened overnight. Every single color just... disappeared. Look at this!"

She held up a paintbrush dripping with what should have been blue paint, but only clear liquid dropped onto the floor.

Buck's antlers twitched as he examined the empty tubes. His power sensing ability detected something strange—a faint trail of energy leading out the back door.

"Did you see anyone unusual around here?" Buck asked.

"Well, there was this odd hummingbird hovering outside last night. Bright purple with the strangest shimmer to its feathers. But surely a tiny bird couldn't—"

A crash echoed from the street outside, followed by panicked shouts.