EXT.THE FIELD - ???

As the sheep wanders the cozy field; the blades of grass gently swaying to the fleeting breath of wind as it glides the leaf off away into the distance.

Despite all that, he seems to be preoccupied with something—a poloroid placed gently in the palm of his paw—as his feet sweep off piles of dirt with each step he takes.

Foggy squints his eyes, his mind trying to recognize the man in the image, but alas, his memory could only draw blanks, in spite of how hard he thought. Maybe in time, he could recall the moment.

FERRIE

Okay, Foggy, you can stop looking at that photo now. Look at this!

As the sheep glances up from his photo and looks up; he finds a wooden pole with a target board nailed down to it. There, aside it, lay a table with a couple of darts located on its surface. Foggy's head turns to Ferrie who gently smiles as his paws gesture in amazement.

The sheep's expression morphs into confusion; his brows furrowing as he makes sense of his predicament. Ferrie's smile drops; painting a grumpy frown.

FOGGY

What... am I supposed to do?

At the sheep's words, Ferrie's shoulders slump. The ferret softly respires, approaches the table, grabs one dart and stands besides Foggy.

Foggy stares, interest bubbling up in the edges of his eyes, as the ferret demostrates the game.

FERRIE

Okay, the only rule of the game is to hit the center of the target board. Kinda like archery.

The sheep slowly nods at his explanation. Ferrie smirks as he prepares to aim the dart at the board.

FERRIE (CONT'D)

Watch and learn...

As the ferret throws the dart, the sheep watches as it fires through the air like a bullet to the head—its point landing straight into the wood; almost left of the center.

Ferrie scowls at this, but schools his expression into a egotistical grin as he looks to Foggy, gently pushing his back to try.

FOGGY

I don't think I can—

Ferrie scoffs, checks the back of his hand before blurting out.

FERRIE

What, too scared? Too much of a stupid baby?

The sheep recoils at the blurt tone of Ferrie, grumbles as he turns his back on him, and nears the table; stealing a couple of darts before retrieving his steps backwards.

Before Foggy could throw them however, he is startled as he bumps into someone behind him. He turns to see Tapey, Grim, and Wayfinder beside him. Huh. When did they...

GRIM

Ww What are you guys doing?

For a moment, the sheep had thought that he had heard a slight change in her voice; almost staticky in volume—the buzz crooning him into something. But maybe that was just his imagination.

As Ferrie notices the newcomers (who had just appeared), he waves at them as they come near. He then clears his throat.

FERRIE

It's simple, really. We're playing darts.

The sheep's eyes linger on Grim's expression—which, strangely—does not change, despite the cheery response.

GRIM

I love darts! I've played it a million times before.

A terrible feeling drops in the lake of his stomach as he registers the absurdness of the situation. Still, he shakes his head; trying to ease the dread.

FERRIE

Foggy, you go next, and then Wayfinder, Tapey, and Grim.

It's clear that Ferrie is cringing at Grim's eerie demeanor, but he hides it behind a forced smile.

The sheep approaches the board, steadies himself as he prepares, and shoots.

The dart lands just northwest of the center.

FERRIE

Oooh, good try, Foggy.

Foggy looks over his shoulder. Wayfinder gives him a thumbs up. Ferrie glances over, gesturing the swan to come up the line. Upon trascending the line, Foggy who is descending the line places the rest of the darts in the palm of his wing.

Wayfinder glances down at them. Then looks forth at the target board in front of him.

A beat passes, and the swan's eyes narrow as he focuses on the center of the board; sharpening his vision.

With a careful and calculated cadence, he silently tracks the distance of the dart from his wing to the board, and stables himself as he readies to shoot.

The dart sears through the air like a comet bursting into flames, and then—

It almost pierces the wood; docking on the far-right of the board.

WAYFINDER

(mouthed)

Almost.

Behind him, Tapey simply gawks at Wayfinder's riveting aim. Its eyes spark as it looks up upon the swan's sheepish grin.

TAPEY

That was awesome! How'd you do that?

There's a confident chuckle from the swan as he gives him the darts, and moves to the back of the line.

WAYFINDER

Practice. I can teach you it some time.

TAPEY

Yes! Please do!

Wayfinder lightly smiles. Tapey faces the front of the line; where the target board lies ahead of it—danging from the wooden pole.

It positions itself into a lunge; stretching a few times before anchoring itself to the test.

As the raccoon fixates on the center of the target, and then—with some stealthy coordination of the paw and the eye—it fires the dart.

But inste ad of the t ar ge t tha t la y ahead of Tapey...

iiiiiiii it was g gr im ggggrim.

Tapey blinks, and see that the dart has landed straight in the center of the board. It blinks, surprised for a moment. Then, it feels a tinge of joy at the achievement.

TAPEY

Wahoo!

Everyone that was before the raccoon cheers, and high-fives it as they register its milestone. Ferrie, however, sneers.

END OF EP?

Surprise. This is ironically the most normal of the episodes for some reason. What a fucking drab, am I right? I doubt there's anything here to look at, anyways.