Oh my God, the cuteness.

I don't know if I got her/him quite right, but if I fiddle with it I'll ruin it.

I'll put up my ref.

Nothing works the way it used to! Muscles upside down and flabby. Short bursts of adrenaline followed by loss of control. And to top it off he's still green.....

Started this for the shock art contest and wasn't able to get back to it til now.

Beverly had jumped out of the girl's pocket from mere feet up, but those seemed like miles. He had been successful in keeping Flynnarill from harm but both his right legs were crushed, his rear even more hopelessly than the other. The pain was agonizing enough, and the humiliation drove him to plead to be helped away and out of sight. The struggles of being made four mere inches tall had been brought home full circle to him, but at least they were all now free of the Collector.

The healer Umeiko was summoned to him, a Horesewoman they instinctively feared as much as anyone counted her as a close friend. The cost of her labor was usually far worse than the injury itself as bones were willed together to unsplinter, nerves to reconnect as flesh and bone moved at her command. The experience alone was enough that it was well heard of for some to choose death rather than face a healer's touch.

Immediately the pain overtook him, giving no one time to prepare for the Son of Cheron's double-chested, curdling shouts that ripped out beyond control. The pain had from the beginning been an engulfing temptation for in the past the stress easily summoned a chaotic rage which sought to destroy everything both dear and hated. Years of training and experience had allowed him to place the chaos on an upper shelf deep within him at the cost of it's greater strength. He could live without fear that a moment might spark the danger of it, but this pain, this torture was so much more than he could ever hope to bear.

It called to him and promised him relief he knew it would completely provide. In seconds he felt it was his only option to survive, the only thing he wanted and desired. His will was crushed to dust and his mind erased by the pain and it was only moments before he would succumb into it completely. Within his shouts, however, Flynnarill had heard his plead for her to tell him what he needed, what he knew in his hearts. Remind him, give him the anchor, for the sake of everything! She leaned in close to him and spoke the very words he simply had to hear.

"Amin mela lle, come back to me now."

A point of intersection. A matter of perception.

fisheye perspective

.

Oekaki is making everything all blotchy... I'm not sure if that's a good thing. :/

So... it's Saturday night and I'm all alone and feelin' kinda blue, and then I hear this sound on my wooden living room floor... jingle, jangle... jingle..., I poke my head around the corner, and it's a long, tall redheaded cowboy named Brian that I have known since he was a little boy, and he tips his hat and says "Lookin' gorgeous Ma'am, as always", and grins. Yes, that's my coffee table, and he can put his feet up there anytime (that's why I have a coffee table made of wood, just like the floor :) and spit in a can while he sits on my couch. Ain't no bitchin' 'bout that kind of behavior around here, because sweet, well-mannered cowboys always make my blues go away. :D

Brian manages one of the large ranches just a skip from my house. He had his spurs custom made and I think they're cool because they're a clover, (and the rowels are rounded on the ends so they're gentle to the horses) so I decided to take a picture and paint them.

...take me home.