The men were almost upon her when the leader of the horsemen looked up across the stream. Phaedra could only see Kasabian and Cora from where she knelt and on a day when she didn’t think hope existed, she saw it in their eyes.
"Introduce yourself, stranger," the leader of the horsemen ordered.
"I’m no stranger," her Mont husband said, astride his horse. "I’m Lucian of the Monts, the custodian of this valley. State your business here, Charynite."
She hadn’t realized until that moment that she had always enjoyed the sound of her Mont husband’s voice. It was strong and gruff and it spoke with little nonsense and a good deal of substance.
long time no tmi art huh? I’ve missed these two
and yes, alec has an undercut :3
not gonna lie, i mainly stopped because i didn’t think people wanted to see it, now i’ve learnt not to care
A couple of super-messy sketches of Nehemia in ceremonial dress (and ceremonial armor!) These were mainly influenced by
Prince of EgyptAncient Egyptian garb, with a bit of Bedouin fashion thrown into the mix.
Please excuse the terrible anatomy.
Do you ever think about Cillian and just imagine the way he would have looked at Ben when he thought he wouldn’t notice? The way he’d gaze and his heart would swell and he’d swallow and he’d smooth down his hair? And Ben would notice, of course he would, because of the noise and the way that the…
But actually, that’s more or less how I imagined them all. This is amazing.
Art by Gingerhaze
Evanjalin of the Monts, from Finnikin of the Rock by Melina Marchetta.
Oh audiobooks. I cannot help but take a few minutes and sketch out the characters as I listen.
Edit: finally fixed that spelling… thanks internets for pointing that out. Oh audiobooks.
Froi sat beside Lirah. They studied each other, her beautiful eyes confused and full of disbelief, as though wondering how someone as plain as Froi could have come from her loins and Gargarin’s seed. He reached over and took her hand, placing a bag of coins in her palm.
"Get out of the Citavita, Lirah," he said quietly. "They’ve got nothing else to loot and they’ll come here next."
"Where did you get this?" she asked, her voice husky.
"Where do you think? I’m a thief."
She pushed the bag back into his hands. “Then use it to return home, wherever that is. I’m a whore, so I think I can find my own means out.”
Arjuro stood, sighing. “When you’re both finished trying to frighten each other away with the sordidness of your pasts, can you help me please?”