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Elf vs. Orc 9Sings-to-Trees' head shot up. He knew Fleabane's barks like the back of his hand. Short, rapid barks, not grating, hysterical ones--somewhere between a greeting and a warning. Fleabane knew the person approaching, but he didn't really like them.

That meant it was either one of the humans from down the road (excepting Matilda, who brought cheeses and always had a tidbit for a hungry coyote) or the rangers.

"Shit!" Sings-to-Trees leapt to his feet and began kicking Celadon's armor under the bed, followed by the extra blankets.

Celadon got unsteadily to her feet. "What is it?"

"Company. Might be rangers."

She could have asked questions, lik

Elf vs. Orc 8Celadon woke up in the elf's arms.

This sounded a lot more romantic than it actually was.

For one thing, learning to sleep in proximity to another person is an acquired skill. You learn what to do with the arm that always seems to get stuck between you and where to put your feet and whether they mind having a leg draped over theirs and who can use whose arm as a pillow without nerve damage or a sore neck. Then there's the whole complex negotiation of blanket treaties and sheets and who gets what and who needs layers and who has to stick their feet out.

Without acquiring these vital habits, you wake up pretty much like Celadon—stiff, sore,

Elf vs. Orc 7This was easier said than done.

She gave him some very practical suggestions about how to tie the ropes. A bit of slack between the feet, enough to shuffle, not enough to run. A rope around the neck as a kind of leash in case she attacked him. He could tell she'd done this sort of thing before.

Sings-to-Trees, at that point, would have been happy just untying her completely and pointing her in the direction of the outhouse, but he had a horrible feeling he'd disappoint her if he didn't at least try to hold up his end. So he steeled himself to stay awake a bit longer and got the ropes set up, and hauled her out of the bed.

Then she wound up

Elf vs. Orc 6He got a nasty start a few hours later, when he came in to check on her.

He'd tied her hands, her feet, thrown a loop or two around her waist, and roped everything to the bed, the chair, and the fire iron, just for good measure, He'd done everything short of hog-tying. She wasn't going to get loose in a hurry.

He wasn't sure why he was bothering, really, since he had a horrible feeling that if she said "Will you untie me?" he might do it, and if she said "please," he'd definitely do it.

Still, she didn't seem to be a threat conscious, so maybe that was okay.

Then, because his feelings were still churning and there was nothing for emotiona

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Submitted: May 11, 2012
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Rose Wolfby `ursulav

Traditional Art / Mixed Media / Animals & Plants

As usual, I started this with an abstract painting and then stared at it for twenty minutes trying to figure out what it wanted, and apparently it was a wolf...ish...thingy. I used a lot of Alizarin Crimson. I love the name of Alizarin Crimson even more than the color, but the color does have its uses.

It sat in the studio for two days while I tried to figure out if I liked it or if it was too damn furry for words. I still don't know, but I decided I liked it anyway. The textures make me happy.

11 x 14, mixed media, original for sale, prints available at Red Wombat Studio: [link]

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~tat2dtrash Jun 5, 2012

Very beautiful.
aliz crimson is my second favorite name... opera rose is my favorite. also one of my favorite colors to paint with.

~dana-redde May 21, 2012

This...is the first time I've realized it was AlizarIN Crimson and not AlizarIAN Crimson. I've been painting for years. I'm going to go sit down and think about my life for a little while.