
Summary:
The tide rolled slowly, as though it moved like the breath of the land, lapping against Macyvers' legs as he stood still. What moved, was the fish which flailed fruitlessly within his maw, unable to escape. Unable to hide, his eyes fixed on the fog as it rolled across the land. Unstoppable, and unavoidable.
Sometimes, though born of these lands, he felt as strange and displaced as the fog. Maybe that was what being a Valleyfolk was meant to be, though they were of the world - they were not of it.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Animal related (non-anthro)
Species Wolf
Size 2368 x 1556px
File Size 2.1 MB
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