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Description
"Who honors those we love with the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us, and at the same time sings that we'll never die? Who teaches us what's real, and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live, and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us, and who holds the key to set us free?

It's you.

You have all the weapons you need.

Now fight!"
-as said by The Wise Man from Suckerpunch

Though she remembered little of her puppyhood, though most of the snapshots deep within her memory were blurry...filtered through the hazy green of summer afternoon tree leaves at best...she would forever remember how her father had once recounted her mother's spirit to her in stories. As a pup, it was hard to believe that her mother could be the indomitable warrior her proud father spoke of. When Wielder's large brown eyes would dart towards her mother as she sat sunning herself on a fallen oak, the older shewolf would make no mention of it. Would only smile softly and turn her muzzle back upwards into the golden rays of morning.

But as she got older and as she began to understand that that humble strength was her birthright, those memories became sharper. Experience filled in the details time had destroyed by erosion.

The path of a lone wolf is dangerous. Factor in being a female...a creature seen as demure, gentle, and helpless, and you add an unfathomable amount of hardship to such a creature. But she was raised as a wolf...not a female. She was no pampered trophy meant to nuzzle under the strong jawline of some brutish alpha.

And so, no matter the challenge, no matter how tired, hungry, or weary she was, she would turn on her heels to face it. She learned that winning was less important than putting up a fight and that no amount of pain or blood could mar the effort she made in defending what little was hers.

As her opponent's footfalls pounded towards her nearly drowning out the beat of her heart, as his greater size became more evident, as his teeth curled out like great roots, and as he howled his own battlecry into the glade around them, she remembered her father's praise of her mother even as the rival wolf became a creature of mythical proportions right before her. With those silent words as her own mantra, she would fight for them if for nothing else...

"...the measure of a true warrior has nothing to do with being male or female, Puppling. Look at your mother. She's small, isn't she? But it is no small feat to stand while others cower, and that is why your mother is a Leader among Leaders. Remember that."

Symbolic piece of Wielder facing off against some unknown foe. Inspired at least partially by this story [link] written by my dear friend, Footpad. Is the wolf she's fighting real and we're seeing her interpretation of it or is she really fighting something supernatural? That's your decision.

Done with copic markers, india ink, white gel pen, colored pencils, and acrylic paint on regular sketchbook paper.

Description
"Who honors those we love with the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us, and at the same time sings that we'll never die? Who teaches us what's real, and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live, and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us, and who holds the key to set us free?

It's you.

You have all the weapons you need.

Now fight!"
-as said by The Wise Man from Suckerpunch

Though she remembered little of her puppyhood, though most of the snapshots deep within her memory were blurry...filtered through the hazy green of summer afternoon tree leaves at best...she would forever remember how her father had once recounted her mother's spirit to her in stories. As a pup, it was hard to believe that her mother could be the indomitable warrior her proud father spoke of. When Wielder's large brown eyes would dart towards her mother as she sat sunning herself on a fallen oak, the older shewolf would make no mention of it. Would only smile softly and turn her muzzle back upwards into the golden rays of morning.

But as she got older and as she began to understand that that humble strength was her birthright, those memories became sharper. Experience filled in the details time had destroyed by erosion.

The path of a lone wolf is dangerous. Factor in being a female...a creature seen as demure, gentle, and helpless, and you add an unfathomable amount of hardship to such a creature. But she was raised as a wolf...not a female. She was no pampered trophy meant to nuzzle under the strong jawline of some brutish alpha.

And so, no matter the challenge, no matter how tired, hungry, or weary she was, she would turn on her heels to face it. She learned that winning was less important than putting up a fight and that no amount of pain or blood could mar the effort she made in defending what little was hers.

As her opponent's footfalls pounded towards her nearly drowning out the beat of her heart, as his greater size became more evident, as his teeth curled out like great roots, and as he howled his own battlecry into the glade around them, she remembered her father's praise of her mother even as the rival wolf became a creature of mythical proportions right before her. With those silent words as her own mantra, she would fight for them if for nothing else...

"...the measure of a true warrior has nothing to do with being male or female, Puppling. Look at your mother. She's small, isn't she? But it is no small feat to stand while others cower, and that is why your mother is a Leader among Leaders. Remember that."

Symbolic piece of Wielder facing off against some unknown foe. Inspired at least partially by this story [link] written by my dear friend, Footpad. Is the wolf she's fighting real and we're seeing her interpretation of it or is she really fighting something supernatural? That's your decision.

Done with copic markers, india ink, white gel pen, colored pencils, and acrylic paint on regular sketchbook paper.