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Description
"Charge!" yelled the general in the tricorne hat, unsheathing his saber. The mice looked at each other. They knew it was suicidal. They knew the rats would continue launching cannonballs at them. But they also knew they had no choice. Quickly, before the general could take notice of their hesitation, they got up, leaving the relative safety of their sandbags, and ran forth.

General: Number 2 pencil on recycled paper.
Soldiers: Modifications of the vectors from this piece .
Artist's notes
This is what happens when I'm on the subway, trying to read a book about the 19th century, and some punk gets on blaring his stereo, breaking the silence all the other passengers had, until that moment, enjoyed: I make a drawing of my anachronistic rodent minions attacking them!

Description
"Charge!" yelled the general in the tricorne hat, unsheathing his saber. The mice looked at each other. They knew it was suicidal. They knew the rats would continue launching cannonballs at them. But they also knew they had no choice. Quickly, before the general could take notice of their hesitation, they got up, leaving the relative safety of their sandbags, and ran forth.

General: Number 2 pencil on recycled paper.
Soldiers: Modifications of the vectors from this piece .
Artist's notes
This is what happens when I'm on the subway, trying to read a book about the 19th century, and some punk gets on blaring his stereo, breaking the silence all the other passengers had, until that moment, enjoyed: I make a drawing of my anachronistic rodent minions attacking them!