Watched
Silently, closing in, a silhouette
Step by step, approaching
The spirit is watching,
The rabbit, sleeping.
Pencil doodle on A6 Sketchbook – The adventures of a feral bone spirit
Inktober 2018, Day 29 : Double
I’ve outdone myself in the horror on this one.
Inktober 2018 – #01 – Poisonous
Inktober 2018 – #02 – Tranquil
Inktober 2018 – #03 – Roasted
Inktober 2018 – #04 – Spell
Inktober 2018 – #05 – Chicken
Inktober 2018 – #06 – Drooling
Inktober 2018 – #07 – Exhausted
Inktober 2018 – #08 – Star
Inktober 2018 – #09 – Precious
Inktober 2018 – #10 – Flowing
Inktober 2018 – #11 – Cruel
Inktober 2018 – #12 – Whale
Inktober 2018 – #13 – Guarded
Inktober 2018 – #14 – Clock
Inktober 2018 – #15 – Weak
Inktober 2018 – #16 – Angular
Inktober 2018 – #17 – Swollen
Inktober 2018 – #18 – Bottle
Inktober 2018 – #19 – Scorched
Inktober 2018 – #20 – Breakable
Inktober 2018 – #21 – Drain
Ink nib on A6 sketchbook
Uneasy at sea
Nervous, uneasy… The tight grip on their saber did help a little. The wind was strong, salty, corrosive. It smells. a lot. And yet, them would not change their place for anything.
Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook.
Inktober 2018, Day 28 : Gift
Admit you weren’t thinking about what happenned next with the poor #20.
Hang on ! For the next Inktobers will be quite macabre.
Inktober 2018 – #01 – Poisonous
Inktober 2018 – #02 – Tranquil
Inktober 2018 – #03 – Roasted
Inktober 2018 – #04 – Spell
Inktober 2018 – #05 – Chicken
Inktober 2018 – #06 – Drooling
Inktober 2018 – #07 – Exhausted
Inktober 2018 – #08 – Star
Inktober 2018 – #09 – Precious
Inktober 2018 – #10 – Flowing
Inktober 2018 – #11 – Cruel
Inktober 2018 – #12 – Whale
Inktober 2018 – #13 – Guarded
Inktober 2018 – #14 – Clock
Inktober 2018 – #15 – Weak
Inktober 2018 – #16 – Angular
Inktober 2018 – #17 – Swollen
Inktober 2018 – #18 – Bottle
Inktober 2018 – #19 – Scorched
Inktober 2018 – #20 – Breakable
Inktober 2018 – #21 – Drain
Ink nib on A6 sketchbook
Hopping
It is morning, two silhouettes hops in the fields.
The rabbit cannot jump as high as the spirit.
Each gust of wind throws it higher and higher.
As if wind itself was a spirit too. Maybe it is.
Pencil doodle on A6 Sketchbook – The adventures of a feral bone spirit