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A Rarity in Ice << Previous | Next >> A Sudden Ill Omen
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The tribe wandered. It was a simple and unquestionable fact of their lives; the prey which sustained the Tribe wandered at will no matter where the Tribe wanted to go. But, somewhere in between the movements of prey and the turning of the lights in the sky, the movements of the tribe had taken on a far deeper meaning than the hunt for food. There were reasons behind each movement. Some were more concrete than others, and some far more steeped in the rhythms of the sky and the ice. They would often hold marches, special kinds of walking – the death march, for instance, to honor the spirit of one who had finally lost all warmth.

There were no marches now. The prey was waning and the tribe chased it. On the outskirts of the forest that sheltered the living, they stopped where the prey had stopped. Some remained in a rocky clearing some distance from where the prey had stopped; those whose blood had cooled, the white-thumbs, and those of the Dim Coat stayed behind, while those of the Snowy Tresses went on to hunt.

They could keep an easy hold on the youngest of the Tribe, the ones young enough that they had to be carried and coddled to keep their warmth, but for the older white-thumbs, a new game was invented to pass the time until the end of the hunt. Those white-thumbs of the Dim Coat were especially encouraged to test their strength against the boulders strewn across their resting point.

Anorthyte was an older white-thumb, too large to be carried, though still small enough to be kept away from hunting. Such was a place of safety, as well as anything in their world could be truly safe – with both the power of movement and the constant watch of a guardian. The game itself was difficult, though it varied between all the white-thumbs. No two boulders in the clearing were alike, and few were very small. For Anorthyte, so famed for the rapid mastery of ice-crossing, they chose one of the heavier rocks in the field and left lighter ones to other peers. It was not as much a game as fish-fetching – there was no reward for it, except a way to pass the time until the hunt concluded and the tribe had meat to eat again.

The chilly rock was unforgiving and took no note of the struggle, even as Anorthyte dug all four paws into the snow, leaving furrows in scrabbling for a solid grip. An older hunter of the Tribe directed Anorthyte to drive the stone forwards with one shoulder. The young loon pushed mightily, until at last the rock finally popped free of its place in the ground.

The loon shoved it forwards, perseverance earning some praise. It took several awkward upwards shoves and one final heave with all the might Anorthyte could muster, and then the rock finally tilted and sluggishly fell over.

Despite this, when all the white-thumbs had tired of this hard training, the reward of the hunt’s conclusion did not come.

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Color + Shading + Background + 500 words -- 11 magic (11/27)

I did this one specifically lineless, though this style of drawing doesn't emphasize lines that much anyways. I think this counts, though.

Description
A Rarity in Ice << Previous | Next >> A Sudden Ill Omen
_____________

The tribe wandered. It was a simple and unquestionable fact of their lives; the prey which sustained the Tribe wandered at will no matter where the Tribe wanted to go. But, somewhere in between the movements of prey and the turning of the lights in the sky, the movements of the tribe had taken on a far deeper meaning than the hunt for food. There were reasons behind each movement. Some were more concrete than others, and some far more steeped in the rhythms of the sky and the ice. They would often hold marches, special kinds of walking – the death march, for instance, to honor the spirit of one who had finally lost all warmth.

There were no marches now. The prey was waning and the tribe chased it. On the outskirts of the forest that sheltered the living, they stopped where the prey had stopped. Some remained in a rocky clearing some distance from where the prey had stopped; those whose blood had cooled, the white-thumbs, and those of the Dim Coat stayed behind, while those of the Snowy Tresses went on to hunt.

They could keep an easy hold on the youngest of the Tribe, the ones young enough that they had to be carried and coddled to keep their warmth, but for the older white-thumbs, a new game was invented to pass the time until the end of the hunt. Those white-thumbs of the Dim Coat were especially encouraged to test their strength against the boulders strewn across their resting point.

Anorthyte was an older white-thumb, too large to be carried, though still small enough to be kept away from hunting. Such was a place of safety, as well as anything in their world could be truly safe – with both the power of movement and the constant watch of a guardian. The game itself was difficult, though it varied between all the white-thumbs. No two boulders in the clearing were alike, and few were very small. For Anorthyte, so famed for the rapid mastery of ice-crossing, they chose one of the heavier rocks in the field and left lighter ones to other peers. It was not as much a game as fish-fetching – there was no reward for it, except a way to pass the time until the hunt concluded and the tribe had meat to eat again.

The chilly rock was unforgiving and took no note of the struggle, even as Anorthyte dug all four paws into the snow, leaving furrows in scrabbling for a solid grip. An older hunter of the Tribe directed Anorthyte to drive the stone forwards with one shoulder. The young loon pushed mightily, until at last the rock finally popped free of its place in the ground.

The loon shoved it forwards, perseverance earning some praise. It took several awkward upwards shoves and one final heave with all the might Anorthyte could muster, and then the rock finally tilted and sluggishly fell over.

Despite this, when all the white-thumbs had tired of this hard training, the reward of the hunt’s conclusion did not come.

_____________

Color + Shading + Background + 500 words -- 11 magic (11/27)

I did this one specifically lineless, though this style of drawing doesn't emphasize lines that much anyways. I think this counts, though.