Hiding In The Woods.

My mother always used to tell me stories, stories of things that lurked beyond, things that crawled and snarled, things that hid away from our home. She told me these stories to scare me, to warn me, to keep me away from those towering woods behind our house that darkened the sky, blacked out all except dappled light in small pools. She worried for us, what we would become in there, very superstitious my mother... believed anything she heard, read and saw. Of course these were just stories, I had nothing to fear in those woods.

Years pass and times change, the village we lived in grew larger and more and more people flocked there every summer for a look at 'country life'. I hated those people, the woods hated those people. Of course they ventured inside, looking for a good snapshot of a deer, or a robin, maybe take something for a souvenir. It didn't take long for people to begin to disappear and why shouldn't they? I never believed we had anything to be scared of in those woods, they did though. They had every right to be scared.

Every morning in that summer, I'd wake up naked and bruised, every muscle would ache, it wasn't a new thing, it had been happening since I was a little girl. Except nowadays, I was waking up with more and more blood smeared on my body, not that I cared much, I always hated tourists.

See what my mother never understood was I had nothing to be afraid of in those woods; I was what everyone else was afraid of. And that, I loved.


This is a little something that popped into my head and I had to draw ^^ I haven't draw my lupines in ages, so I feel like they might be making some form of comeback soon (If I can ever get to grips with female werewolves in war form... GAK)

I tried drawing something similar to this a while back... I fucked up pretty badly, but this, I like, I learnt not to outline the bits where blood would be running, looks good I think.

Artwork © Me