
Storytelling, the final frontier.
What do you think is going on here?
What do you think is going on here?
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Wolf
Size 1280 x 875px
File Size 467.6 kB
What is going on here?
I think one of the last survivors of an attack, as I saw on a previous pic of him he seems to have lost his shield and battle axt which lets me think they shattered in the try to slay his enemys. The arrow in the back are signs for a possible ambushl due that barbarians many times dont retreat (retreat would show fear, there was a folk ealier who wounded prisoners at the back and then let them go so their own people would banish him cause running away).
But I dont fully get this little ghost like appearance after which he raises his hand.
Very nice picture, like it much.
I think one of the last survivors of an attack, as I saw on a previous pic of him he seems to have lost his shield and battle axt which lets me think they shattered in the try to slay his enemys. The arrow in the back are signs for a possible ambushl due that barbarians many times dont retreat (retreat would show fear, there was a folk ealier who wounded prisoners at the back and then let them go so their own people would banish him cause running away).
But I dont fully get this little ghost like appearance after which he raises his hand.
Very nice picture, like it much.
it's his cloak, i say. foot soldiers or non-leader types usually don't wear cloaks like that to a battle [assuming he wasn't ambushed]. people wearing gold and white feathers/fur may actually expect to stay relatively clean... few officers back in the day really looked forward to getting knocked off their horse and having to fight in the mud, yanno?
Maybe he was on a mission to find someone or something but he had to fight against one or more persons who wouldn´t let him finish his mission. But after a long and hard fight he won the fight but he got really bad wounded but his mission isn´t done and he wouldn´t allow himself to die until the mission is done and the sprite maybe shows him where he has to go to finish his mission.
Deviating from what others are saying. I think he survived an attack, but got away unharmed from running. Though to show that he is not a coward by running, he stabs an cuts himself in multiple places. So/so people back at the village/city-state? think he's just the lone survivor.
Storytelling, huh? Well, you asked for it~
The wolf warrior stumbled in the deep snow. The drying blood on his forehead was pulling his fur in mildly painful directions, but it was nothing compared to how much the would had hurt when he received it in the skirmish. Despite a valiant effort, he was forced to retreat after his compatriots all fell to the band attacking them. Alone, lost in enemy territory, he saw little hope of returning with his honor intact.
He paused a moment, leaning against a great, snow-covered boulder, his ruined ear twitching at the odd sound. It was light, almost playful, like ice shards lightly clinking together. He looked around, ready to draw his axe when he saw the source. Flitting into view was a sprite, shades of cool ice and snow and glittering ever so slightly. He raised a hand toward it and it maneuvered just out of reach, seeming to giggle and beckon him onward. Bereft of any other guide, he followed, the sound of his paws crunching through the drifts muted in the gray winder day.
The wolf warrior stumbled in the deep snow. The drying blood on his forehead was pulling his fur in mildly painful directions, but it was nothing compared to how much the would had hurt when he received it in the skirmish. Despite a valiant effort, he was forced to retreat after his compatriots all fell to the band attacking them. Alone, lost in enemy territory, he saw little hope of returning with his honor intact.
He paused a moment, leaning against a great, snow-covered boulder, his ruined ear twitching at the odd sound. It was light, almost playful, like ice shards lightly clinking together. He looked around, ready to draw his axe when he saw the source. Flitting into view was a sprite, shades of cool ice and snow and glittering ever so slightly. He raised a hand toward it and it maneuvered just out of reach, seeming to giggle and beckon him onward. Bereft of any other guide, he followed, the sound of his paws crunching through the drifts muted in the gray winder day.
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