Owlets, but with a flourish.
Seriously, that's it.
(Oh, and I cut about a 10th of a second off the final frame.)
So I combined these two challenges from Anne and Psalmist.
Anne: Could you please choose any hitRECorder and make a portrait of him or her? It doesn't have to be true to life,maybe draw this person as you see him/her?
Psalmist: I noticed you had a few RECords that utilize ice as a central component. I challenge you to do a drawing which incorporates, instead, fire as a major object within the artistic piece.
Hope you guys and Xanlee like this piece.
[Continued work on a writing project. This portion was inspired by Monika Dekowska's "Uciekający schizobas - basic sketch". If you're interested in the related RECords, then follow the link below:
Behind Liera the beasts were a gaining fusilade. When their paws pounded it was with the thunder of explosions. Each body swept itself over the corpses of trees, cremating them into gnats of ash which whorled about their careening path. Her heart beat a tempo as loud as their gait and each motion towards her was as an immolating wave digesting that raucous organ.
"Gods, gods, gods, gods, gods!" her breath tattooed and the breath of a creature cast its scathing warmth over her form.
"OH MY GOD!" she screamed as its shadow ingulfed her and a heat unlike any furnace blasted above her body, tarnishing it with immediate blisters over the right half of her face and arms.
The air, taut with piqued interest at imminent death the way Nature often is, was plucked like a string and the ashound that was upon her stopped.
It stood upon its hind legs, giant and mythic like a derangement of folklore. Her right eye burst into unseeing pain as she tried to concentrate on the animal, long enough that she could make out its smoldering grey coat. Liera coughed and choked under the soft, hateful scent of fire that eminated from it and her remaining left eye watered in tremors of waning control. The dark dirt about her gust into her lungs and mouth; she did not know if it were propelled by zephyric vibrations surrounding the creature or by her own tumultuous respirations -- it was probably the latter, the first being a hallucination, a mirage brought on by the insane heat that crashed on her with a thousand suns fury.
Again, the sound of plucking jack-knifed through the air. At once it resolved into a strumming. A song. Liera could not detect the rhythm of the song, but something instinctual told her that was what swirled about her. She began to cry. She had been already, but now she was crying for the incomprehensible instrumental. Her tears ran like the red lament of the last falling drop of a good wine suspended against the lip of a glass and at once falling along the curve of its container.
By now the whole pack was gathered about her, though none moved close as the ashound which had almost had her. Liera felt their presence, haunting with an arid acidity that bit against her flesh. At once the sound of music was full upon her and the heat which surrounded her was gone leaving her cloaked by a cold so foreign as to be the long lost poles of the Earth itself.
A last pluck and she heard a woman's voice speak.
A hand was upon her and it was the last thing that she realized before she saw only darkness in her remaining eye, too.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
What doesn't kill you just hurts real bad
Built up, built upon, built on
And we fall and we fall and we fall
Tomorrow you might be gone
How much would you give to burn your telling tales?
Note: I compiled this text record from others' text and image records in the Patterns collaboration. I'd like to see a chapter in the book that focuses on the wars we make with each other and what that looks like. It could be two or more people arguing or even physically fighting. It could be images from the public domain showing the after effects of a war ravaged zone. The idea is that as much as we claim to want to live peaceably with one another we can't. Well we have the capacity certainly but we haven't been successful yet. There has never been a time in our history where there was not an area in the world where people were at war with each other. I use the exactness and certainty of the word "never" because.....war is in our nature.