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Description
The grove is almost silent.
The sun is beginning to rest.
The moon is ready to pounce.
The breeze is finding its destination.
The only other one in the forest,
Was the earless figure in the heart.
He could hear them talk just fine,
But he could taste their words.
The aroma of a sweet melody,
But alas, he couldn't hear himself sing
Or the bitter tasting of the ridicules.
But it didn't bring great disparity.
He didn't mind his own voice.
And although he had never been able to hear himself,
There is still one thing that he caught to ear.
He couldn't hear his own song,
But at least he could hear the colors of the forest.
Every shade of green had a story.
And every hue of the flower told a tale.
Life was on the easy side
When the only thing you could hear were the sights you saw.

---------------------
Wanted to do a calming and detailed picture of Screemu. Heck, I've been wanting to do something big with Screemu ever since he came out! I absolutely adore how this came out!! This is one of my better pieces!

Also, a little backstory on this, I've always imagined that Screemu would sometimes leave the Wublin island and take a little stroll in a forest. He loved to admire it's beauty and sometimes, he would probably fall asleep. (Headcannon: too much of a calm area can cause Screemu to grow really drowsy.) I also really loved the way the paint came out on him! It was really fun to color him! (Also headcannon: Screemu had Leukophobia, which is one reason why he paints himself.)

Hope you really like this new piece!

Screemu © BigBlueBubble
The Poem at the beginning © Me, Kiwi 😋

Description
The grove is almost silent.
The sun is beginning to rest.
The moon is ready to pounce.
The breeze is finding its destination.
The only other one in the forest,
Was the earless figure in the heart.
He could hear them talk just fine,
But he could taste their words.
The aroma of a sweet melody,
But alas, he couldn't hear himself sing
Or the bitter tasting of the ridicules.
But it didn't bring great disparity.
He didn't mind his own voice.
And although he had never been able to hear himself,
There is still one thing that he caught to ear.
He couldn't hear his own song,
But at least he could hear the colors of the forest.
Every shade of green had a story.
And every hue of the flower told a tale.
Life was on the easy side
When the only thing you could hear were the sights you saw.

---------------------
Wanted to do a calming and detailed picture of Screemu. Heck, I've been wanting to do something big with Screemu ever since he came out! I absolutely adore how this came out!! This is one of my better pieces!

Also, a little backstory on this, I've always imagined that Screemu would sometimes leave the Wublin island and take a little stroll in a forest. He loved to admire it's beauty and sometimes, he would probably fall asleep. (Headcannon: too much of a calm area can cause Screemu to grow really drowsy.) I also really loved the way the paint came out on him! It was really fun to color him! (Also headcannon: Screemu had Leukophobia, which is one reason why he paints himself.)

Hope you really like this new piece!

Screemu © BigBlueBubble
The Poem at the beginning © Me, Kiwi 😋