The night at the Parfaedia Institute was silent and relatively calm... for someone who doesn't look to solve trouble.

Cream Puff Cookie tip‑toed to a crimson puddle. She picks up her magnifying glass, squints at the sticky mess, and calls out, “Owlcorn! Do you think this red thing... might be strawberry jam...?"

Owlcorn hoots before smearing the substance with its foot. It was just red paint.

"Oh, thank goodness...." Cream Puff Cookie sighs to herself.