Comment on page
By Abigail Harvey
Inksy had chosen to leave her unicorn to roam free when she dismounted to grab lunch (no creature should be tied down, even if it was made of paint), but this now meant tracking the thing down again. Of course, there was a chance it had already vanished into thin air, as her creations were inexplicably prone to doing in Sparkadia.
She rounded a corner, her mouth full of Kana’s spicy Avonoodles, and caught a flash of the familiar swishing rainbow tail—before it was scrubbed out of existence.
A mustachioed Machina threw a misshapen sponge back into his accompanying bucket and nodded happily at the now unicornless air in front of him.
“YOU!” Inksy roared.
Suddenly, maddeningly, it all made sense.