The Morning Patrol

Drawing Man glided over Creative City on his morning patrol, his light blue cape fluttering behind him. Below, humanoid sheep hurried along the sidewalks with their briefcases, while humanoid deer tended to flower gardens that bloomed in perfect geometric patterns.

"Everything looks normal today," he said to himself, adjusting his blue mask.

Drawing Fortress stood proudly in the city center, its four towers reaching toward the clouds. The crayon tower gleamed red and yellow, the marker tower sparkled silver, and the pen tower showed off its sleek black surface. But something about the pencil tower caught his attention.

Drawing Man landed softly on the fortress courtyard. A group of sheep workers huddled near the pencil tower's base, their woolly faces twisted with worry.

"What's wrong?" Drawing Man asked, walking over to them.

The lead sheep, an older one with gray wool, pointed upward with a trembling hoof. "Strange marks appeared overnight, Drawing Man. We've never seen anything like them before."

The Water Warning

Drawing Man looked up at the pencil tower. Strange symbols covered the yellow surface from top to bottom. They looked like squiggly lines mixed with dots and triangles.

"Can you read them?" he asked the gray sheep.

The sheep shook his head. "Nobody can. But that's not the worst part."

Drawing Man stepped closer to the tower. His boots splashed in a growing puddle at the base. "Where's all this water coming from?"

"It started dripping from the symbols this morning," another sheep worker said. "Look at the walls!"

Water streamed down the pencil tower's sides like tears. The fortress courtyard was turning into a shallow lake. Drawing Man watched a group of humanoid deer workers hurry past, carrying their art supplies to higher ground.

"The water is getting deeper every hour," the gray sheep continued. "If it doesn't stop soon, the whole tower foundation will be underwater. The pencil tower could collapse!"

Drawing Man felt his heart racing. The pencil tower held all the city's drawing supplies for emergencies. Without it, Creative City would lose its artistic protection.

A sharp crack echoed from above. A piece of yellow stone tumbled down and splashed into the growing flood.