Naros

I think it's really cool that you've not let it stop you from going out and leading life despite (or in spite!) of it all, and setting an example by stepping up and helping charities. The foxes will forever be in your debt. :)

hey there. little one. i’ve been trailing your scent through the wasteland for days. don’t run. i’m not here to hurt you. i’m here to tell you—you’re not wrong. all your life you’ve twitched at shadows, felt eyes where there were none, ached like something was missing just under your skin. they called it dreaming. they called it madness. but i’ve seen it. i’ve seen you. and you’re real. not some soft mistake. not a too-bright child who never learned to settle. you are claws. you are hunger. you are song written in wet leaves and dirt. you are what came before language. don’t you remember? when you used to listen with your whole body? when you could read the sky like scripture? when sleep came only after circling down, nose to tail, heart to moss? you used to know these things. before they taught you to be still. before they filed your teeth and stuffed your mouth with plastic. before the quiet got so loud you forgot how to feel. but i didn’t forget you. and you didn’t lose it. it’s all still inside— the instinct, the kin-sense, the aching need to run without name or reason. the snarl that isn’t anger but love with no words. you’ve tried to play nice. tried to keep your head down, your tail tucked. but i see you. i see what’s under the mask. the beast that paces. the soft creature still watching the trees for a signal. for a friend. for a way home. listen. this world isn’t safe. but it was never meant to be. we weren’t made for steel boxes and lonely kitchens. we were meant for packs. for muddy paws and rib-warmth and eyes that say i know you. i don’t promise ease. but i promise this: you are not alone. you were never alone. so rise. panting, blinking, wild with grief— but rise. and when the night presses in, don’t whisper. howl. howl into the void until something howls back. and then run to it. run to the ones who remember. run like your name depends on it. because it does. i’ve waited so long. we all have come back. come through. come home. — Shimi & Critter

Hey There Little One

Vixens in the Vineyard

*tiny weasel hug!*

Boo and hiss to stupid trade wars!

*scheming advisor voice* you should kill that guy for fun my liege

Though it is pleasant when paths cross,
some briefly and brightly.
Others run parallel to yours for longer.
Which of them feels more comfortable,
depends on where you are on your path~

Dog shaped friends!

Tees and more ⛓️👇

Business weasel doesn't want to be at work yet.

An antlerless whitetail deer stands in a field facing the viewer. The grass and mountains are a dark blue, so is the deer, and behind it is a hazy pink and white cloudy sky. Negative space in the clouds makes the deer look like it has antlers even though it does not.

Self Made Man 🌙 Redux

I was just being poetic. :)
It takes time, and effort, and an eventual shrug that leads to acceptance.
For me, it also included the realization that I am also the cause of that same feeling in others, so I try to reach out more.

Stop being so cool!
Wait, no. Continue.
But jeez!

Beating it into submission is a long term project, I think. :)

The short answer is always "Yes.".
The still short but slightly longer answer is "They are drawings of fantasy animals.".

Ultimately, nobody but you decides whether it is okay for you to enjoy a drawing.

Make it so.

Oooo! It is practically me.

Bites are a form of love.

That's the most convincing Arcanine I ever did see.

The pain heralds the awakening of the Buns of Steel. :p

Pancakes are in me. :9

a syrupy delicious looking pancake

Pancakes?

But also, really wants his watch back. It is an heirloom, don't you know?

Spirowls!

I still remember my moment. I sort of looked at the options and chose to "different" / genuine. And paid the price in bullying. But in the long run, I think it was the right choice.

It is a turbulent time in life.
I'm ever so happy you found your path again. <3

A selection of commissioned work arranged in some semblance of color order. So many tree shapes! Digital (Photoshop CC), 2023.

What a year for projects! So many cool characters and lush scenes. (Here are just a few.) :3

I have such a hard time imagining you ever doing macho shitty things.
It is counter to everything you are.

*weaselscarfs*

Granny cracking walnuts, sharing with some tiny robins. A basket below the table, tumbled, some walnuts rolling out and a cat inside the basket, only it's feet visible.

Sharing nuts ♥

😘😘😘

Merry hoho, fox!

"The Last Advice".
A decent book title. :>

A feast, for sure. :9