The title card fades in, hand-drawn, imperfect:
The room is still. Then, a soft click from the desk drawer. Not a latch. A mechanism. A low, mechanical hum, followed by the gentle poing of a spring.
He reaches in. His paw disappears up to the shoulder. The sound is a soft shuffling —like a hand in a bag of rice. He pulls out a small, bamboo-copter.
The title card fades in, hand-drawn, imperfect:
The room is still. Then, a soft click from the desk drawer. Not a latch. A mechanism. A low, mechanical hum, followed by the gentle poing of a spring.
He reaches in. His paw disappears up to the shoulder. The sound is a soft shuffling —like a hand in a bag of rice. He pulls out a small, bamboo-copter.