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Species Jackal
Size 1300 x 1164
File Size 1.47 MB
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More from Siber
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The sun was setting. Or maybe the light was just fading again.
He couldn’t tell anymore.
The wind had quieted. The ruins beneath him were warm from the day but cooling fast, and his robes didn’t shield him from the air like they used to. It wasn’t the cold that bothered him—it was how long it took him to notice it.
Siber sat still, not meditating, not resting. Just… sitting.
His journal lay open beside him, face down on the stone. He hadn’t written anything in it for days. Or maybe longer. He’d lost count.
Behind him, a thousand worlds remembered him.
But none of them called him back.
His eyes stared ahead, past the broken skyline, past the golden haze, past the wind-worn statues of stories he’d once cared so deeply about. Not in sadness. Not in longing.
In absence.
He had created a world of his own—one stitched with meaning, built from silence, carried on his back. And still, even here, he felt like a guest in someone else’s dream.
Not unwanted. Just… uncertain.
The stories he carried had weight. And that weight had shape. And that shape sometimes didn’t fit into who he thought he was.
He wasn’t the first to feel this way.
But maybe he was the last to still try and make sense of it.
He stayed there until the stars returned—until they blinked into the sky like distant questions.
He stayed because he didn’t know where else to go.
And if someone had asked him why he was still sitting there, he might’ve said:
"Because I was always the last to leave—
not because I wanted to stay,
but because I had nowhere else to go."
I was glad that Kirena-Kaya was able to get the emotion on Siber in this one. I really do feel that he is a mirror of myself, and because of that, I feel that he feels the same things I do. Been going through a lot recently, and seeing Siber in a similar struggle helps ease it.
Another absolutely amazing piece by
Kirena-Kaya
Siber, the Worldwalker belongs to me,
Siber
Find the artist's post here!
He couldn’t tell anymore.
The wind had quieted. The ruins beneath him were warm from the day but cooling fast, and his robes didn’t shield him from the air like they used to. It wasn’t the cold that bothered him—it was how long it took him to notice it.
Siber sat still, not meditating, not resting. Just… sitting.
His journal lay open beside him, face down on the stone. He hadn’t written anything in it for days. Or maybe longer. He’d lost count.
Behind him, a thousand worlds remembered him.
But none of them called him back.
His eyes stared ahead, past the broken skyline, past the golden haze, past the wind-worn statues of stories he’d once cared so deeply about. Not in sadness. Not in longing.
In absence.
He had created a world of his own—one stitched with meaning, built from silence, carried on his back. And still, even here, he felt like a guest in someone else’s dream.
Not unwanted. Just… uncertain.
The stories he carried had weight. And that weight had shape. And that shape sometimes didn’t fit into who he thought he was.
He wasn’t the first to feel this way.
But maybe he was the last to still try and make sense of it.
He stayed there until the stars returned—until they blinked into the sky like distant questions.
He stayed because he didn’t know where else to go.
And if someone had asked him why he was still sitting there, he might’ve said:
"Because I was always the last to leave—
not because I wanted to stay,
but because I had nowhere else to go."
I was glad that Kirena-Kaya was able to get the emotion on Siber in this one. I really do feel that he is a mirror of myself, and because of that, I feel that he feels the same things I do. Been going through a lot recently, and seeing Siber in a similar struggle helps ease it.
Another absolutely amazing piece by
Kirena-KayaSiber, the Worldwalker belongs to me,
SiberFind the artist's post here!
Category All / All
Species Jackal
Size 1300 x 1164px
File Size 1.47 MB
Comments