1.5M ratings
277k ratings

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

Scenario: Stolen Magic

Magic exists but only the fae (pixies, faeries, little flighty folk). Humans discover that with a hard will the magic can be stolen from the fae and used for unlimited potential. 

Unfortunately for the fae, this means they are hunted, collected, abused, and misused by those that are in the know.

I see it as an excuse to draw little people in all sorts of magically fueled machines or even used by “wizards” to cast spells.

Need a candles? Keep a pixie in a jar, give him a good shake.

Big Dogs?

I am getting the initial sketches put together for Meg and Kinsley, the feral boy pups.

I do need reference for a couple big dog breeds in the stages of lounging, butt sniffing, and possibly other unspeakable activities. Probably mastiffs unless someone has a better idea for big guard dog breeds.

Anyone know any sources?

This pic was inspired by a previous post:
While Meg is the youngest of the two pups kept by Lord Leofric, he’s spent the longest in his current circumstances. Its been all he has known as life. As such, Meg is feral and does not understand the...

This pic was inspired by a previous post:

While Meg is the youngest of the two pups kept by Lord Leofric, he’s spent the longest in his current circumstances. Its been all he has known as life. As such, Meg is feral and does not understand the niceties of culture. He understands commands very well but is unable to speak himself. Largely because Meg’s tongue perpetually hangs from his mouth, forced out by a large piercing with a weight on it. His dirty and naturally dreadlocked hair forms a frizzy mane over his shoulders and upper face.

The other pup will likely follow as a portrait. I wanted to do one of the two of them midst the other dogs, but that seems overwhelming right now.

I love the color on this. I’m really proud of everything but the hair.

dogs' life misterxart portrait

Wyot crouched agog at the side of the Olde Black Road. The baying of hounds sent the man scurrying for cover, pulling his cart with him into the dense foliage that hung over the black earth.

His three days journey on the old road had been uneventful, free from bandits and other travelers alike. On several evenings smoke columns rose from distant, differing points along the horizon. Villages and hamlets that he intentionally avoided thus far. They were untrusting and wary of strangers. Wyot was no merchant which made him even more suspicious in their eyes.

Now the man watched as a deer burst from the woods, two great hunting dogs worrying at the beast’s side, with another three hounds close in pursuit. The pack felled the creature swiftly, massive jaws holding firm.

Roving dogs were a common enough menace. But then late comers arrived to the scene. Wyot supposed them to be the hounds’ handlers - a hunting party. The men quickly set about pulling the massive dogs away, holding them tightly by heavy collars. The final attendent cleared the forest, some kind of warlord or noble.

Wyot was only confused more by the man’s appearance. On a length of heavy chain held in his hands were two youths, lopping on all fours and completely unclothed. They nosed about the deer awkwardly, casting sideways glances at the bearer of the leash.

A big bull of a dog growled loudly at the pair, sending them both scampering back to the man’s feet, visibly quaking.

Feral children, he wondered. Raised by hounds? Stranger and stranger still.