LeccathuFurvicael on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/leccathufurvicael/art/Rejuvination-435989425LeccathuFurvicael

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Rejuvination

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...He had woken into this strange land just the day before, from the time of his arrival he had been greeted with cold piercing wind, stumbling about the whistling forest. The young man had become tired and wind burnt, the sun had set. It was when he heard the wolves call for him.
    They darted around in the trees adjacent, following the young man running blindly through the darkness, thinking he had found a clearing he quicken his pace glancing back once last time, his foot caught tree root. He stumbled out of the forest into the clearing rolling and falling on his face, only to look up into growling wolf pack's faces.
    He stumbled back to his feet, turning to run but three more had joined the pack encircling. He stood there tense waiting for one to make a move. One jumped on his back from behind biting down into his shoulder; he threw it off, landing on its back it yelped. That is when they all attacked forcing him to the ground ripping and tearing flesh, in that moment he thought his life was over. He had seen a white light descend from sky, followed by an ear shattering boom. The wolves ran off, and rain began to fall.
    He started to crawl with one arm, his other mangled and shredded by teeth. He did not get far only reaching the lip of a hill, he rolled over to look to the sky for one last time before he died; Outstretched bloody dirtied hand to the sky.
    He saw the light again, only it was the blinding light of the morning sun rising above the tree line and it reflecting off some object in front of his face. Now we find him here standing, looking down at his salvation. He can not hear anything but the baritone bass drum quickening its tempo in his chest. A blackened tear rolls down his face as if the very essence of the pain of his life was escaping.
    Suddenly, this emotional musical trance is interrupted by a familiar scent, he lets it fill his massive lungs with its calling. The smell of burning wood. The Concrete Angel's feet began to move before his mind could, over the other side of the hill, crushing and cracking the white stone beneath his feet. His mind daydreamed over two questions: Who's fire is it? Is there a way I can help them?
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A commission for the ever wondrous Samuel D'Ora. A fascinating scenario to boot, and quite a positive experience, with plenty of challenge. Thank you for commissioning me, Sam!

Media: Photoshop CS4
Time: 18 hours

Narrative provided by Samuel D'Ora
Character © Samuel D'Ora
Art © 2014 Stephanie Dziezyk. Do not redistribute, copy, alter, etc., any portion of this image without personal permission from me, the artist, and the owner of the character in the image.
Image size
2000x1124px 2.67 MB
© 2014 - 2024 LeccathuFurvicael
Comments32
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6dragon6's avatar
 The perspective from the foot is absolutely amazing.