it’s a big world outside [ o, painting eggs ]

The smell was.... familiar. He couldn’t quite place it, he recognized the pigments and knew they had a name and a usage- but not much else. Zimavich was poking his nose around them, sniffing and tonguing at the ground as if he were scavenging.
He, in his blissful ignorance, failed to notice knocking over some paint and stepping in it, leaving a yellow paw print.

Ivan halted as he found the plastic eggs. He sniffed quizzically, then opened his mouth, lapped one up with his tongue, and attempted to swallow a plastic egg.