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Beating out/
Sleeping fast like sand/
Help me now before I sleep again/
Sing to me, shadow/
Tell me what I've done/
And it's there for you/
Reaching out with aching arms/
And it's in me/
Calling you home/
- Dead Letter Circus - "Y A N A"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bFXVdN5AG4
The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthronèd in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
- William Shakespeare - The Merchant of Venice - Act IV, Scene I
The following is an excerpt from a future installment of "Lamentations of an Icarus"...
The world which welcomed him upon waking appeared unbearably bright. Shafts of gentle sunlight filtered past the leaves of an impressive and protective oak onto Trace’s weary features. The stoat faltered and clutched at his chest as he slowly sank to his knees where everything else fell to ruin. What little strength he had left instantly deserted him when his body collided with the ground. Upon impact, bracing himself as best he could, the stoat stumbled forwards with only his left paw to keep him steady. Whimpering pitiably, the stoat pushed deeper in the tree’s shade toward some indefinite end as the entirety of his being crumbled into formless dust underneath the scouring sky.
Weakened and breathless, Trace cried in agony, “Tyson! Tyson! Tyson, where are you?!”
With no one there to answer, the ermine feared the worst had come to pass. He feared he’d failed his mission to protect the one person who made his wretched soul seem redeemable. The stoat had promised to keep him safe back when he was made a blank slate with no memory bolstering his desire to assume responsibility. In all this time, Trace had defended the boy from every manner of menace. In ten years’ time, Trace had given his all to ensure that no threat or hazard would endanger the raccoon’s safety or injure his family. It had been his mantle to assume, but now that time had since passed. The boy, now a young man, was nowhere to be found in this unbearable brightness, and his absence here made the ermine wail with immeasurable pain.
“Please,” he begged, unable to stem the outpouring of sorrow. “Please, let him be okay. I just want to take him home. Please, let me do that much. Please, let Tyson be alive. Take me instead if you must. He deserves to live. Not me. Please.”
“Easy,” hailed a kindly voice from on high. With a soft thud, the new arrival landed before him, and two generous paws raised the ermine off the grass. “I’ve got you. Tyson’s safe. Don’t you worry about that. Take it easy. It’s your turn to feel safe now.”
The ermine flinched as he recognized the vulpine’s visage grace him with thoughtful benevolence. It was entirely unlike every encounter he’d had with him. Unlike those other times, there were no triggers to unbridle any violence. Now there was peace. And as his sharp chest pains lessened in severity until finally lapsing into nothingness, the ermine knew at last that the fox had not come to deliver a killing blow. Unlike those other times, they’d come together in compassion.
Stifling tears, catching his breath, Trace asked, “H-h-he’s alive?”
“Trust me, my friend,” the familiar fox consoled, offering solace as he held Trace in place. Wreathed in white light, he was a heavenly vision. “He’s got plenty of life left in him.”
“I don’t understand,” he said, distressed and astonished, grasping hold of his heart as the gray fox stabilized him. The ermine felt his strength return in draughts as a soft white light breached his bosom, rejuvenating what was once lost and repairing the irreparable. Grateful yet irresolute, he stared disbelieving into his savior’s silver eyes.
“Why are you helping me? After everything that’s happened,” he questioned feverishly. “After everything that I’ve done. Why?”
The fox smiled upon him with sympathetic assurance and said peacefully, “Because I can.”
I can't take any credit for the piece you see here. It was done by the incredible
aerokat! I can't tell you how ecstatic I am with the end result of all her hard work here. I absolutely love what she did with my characters. It's been an absolute blessing to work with her, and you should take the time out of your day to look at all the cool stuff on her page.
If you're at all interested, here's the link to her Patreon:
https://www.patreon.com/poecatcomix/posts
Also, if you'd like to read the story featuring these two characters, then you can start at the beginning by clicking on this link:
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/16818465/
art is © aerokat
Reese and Trace are ©
nazcapilot
Sleeping fast like sand/
Help me now before I sleep again/
Sing to me, shadow/
Tell me what I've done/
And it's there for you/
Reaching out with aching arms/
And it's in me/
Calling you home/
- Dead Letter Circus - "Y A N A"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bFXVdN5AG4
The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthronèd in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
- William Shakespeare - The Merchant of Venice - Act IV, Scene I
The following is an excerpt from a future installment of "Lamentations of an Icarus"...
The world which welcomed him upon waking appeared unbearably bright. Shafts of gentle sunlight filtered past the leaves of an impressive and protective oak onto Trace’s weary features. The stoat faltered and clutched at his chest as he slowly sank to his knees where everything else fell to ruin. What little strength he had left instantly deserted him when his body collided with the ground. Upon impact, bracing himself as best he could, the stoat stumbled forwards with only his left paw to keep him steady. Whimpering pitiably, the stoat pushed deeper in the tree’s shade toward some indefinite end as the entirety of his being crumbled into formless dust underneath the scouring sky.
Weakened and breathless, Trace cried in agony, “Tyson! Tyson! Tyson, where are you?!”
With no one there to answer, the ermine feared the worst had come to pass. He feared he’d failed his mission to protect the one person who made his wretched soul seem redeemable. The stoat had promised to keep him safe back when he was made a blank slate with no memory bolstering his desire to assume responsibility. In all this time, Trace had defended the boy from every manner of menace. In ten years’ time, Trace had given his all to ensure that no threat or hazard would endanger the raccoon’s safety or injure his family. It had been his mantle to assume, but now that time had since passed. The boy, now a young man, was nowhere to be found in this unbearable brightness, and his absence here made the ermine wail with immeasurable pain.
“Please,” he begged, unable to stem the outpouring of sorrow. “Please, let him be okay. I just want to take him home. Please, let me do that much. Please, let Tyson be alive. Take me instead if you must. He deserves to live. Not me. Please.”
“Easy,” hailed a kindly voice from on high. With a soft thud, the new arrival landed before him, and two generous paws raised the ermine off the grass. “I’ve got you. Tyson’s safe. Don’t you worry about that. Take it easy. It’s your turn to feel safe now.”
The ermine flinched as he recognized the vulpine’s visage grace him with thoughtful benevolence. It was entirely unlike every encounter he’d had with him. Unlike those other times, there were no triggers to unbridle any violence. Now there was peace. And as his sharp chest pains lessened in severity until finally lapsing into nothingness, the ermine knew at last that the fox had not come to deliver a killing blow. Unlike those other times, they’d come together in compassion.
Stifling tears, catching his breath, Trace asked, “H-h-he’s alive?”
“Trust me, my friend,” the familiar fox consoled, offering solace as he held Trace in place. Wreathed in white light, he was a heavenly vision. “He’s got plenty of life left in him.”
“I don’t understand,” he said, distressed and astonished, grasping hold of his heart as the gray fox stabilized him. The ermine felt his strength return in draughts as a soft white light breached his bosom, rejuvenating what was once lost and repairing the irreparable. Grateful yet irresolute, he stared disbelieving into his savior’s silver eyes.
“Why are you helping me? After everything that’s happened,” he questioned feverishly. “After everything that I’ve done. Why?”
The fox smiled upon him with sympathetic assurance and said peacefully, “Because I can.”
I can't take any credit for the piece you see here. It was done by the incredible
aerokat! I can't tell you how ecstatic I am with the end result of all her hard work here. I absolutely love what she did with my characters. It's been an absolute blessing to work with her, and you should take the time out of your day to look at all the cool stuff on her page.If you're at all interested, here's the link to her Patreon:
https://www.patreon.com/poecatcomix/posts
Also, if you'd like to read the story featuring these two characters, then you can start at the beginning by clicking on this link:
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/16818465/
art is ©
aerokatReese and Trace are ©
nazcapilot
Category Artwork (Digital) / General Furry Art
Species Mammal (Other)
Size 1280 x 853px
File Size 215.5 kB
Listed in Folders
Compassion and forgiveness. Very lovely sentiments. But a rarity in this cruel world. Your optimism never fails to impress me, Nazca. Anyway, this is nevertheless a beautifully drawn picture. There's a lot of intense detail in here despite the characters being further in the background than they ordinarily would be. Putting them in the background and the tree, tire swing and other things in the foreground helps create a lovely illusion of depth and it's always interesting to put the significant imagery in the background like this.
Oh, I don't know. I genuinely believe that there's more good in the world than not, but we tend to notice its absence more sharply than we realize. Nevertheless, I always appreciate your kind words. ^_^
Yeah, I was very pleased with all the detail she added into the background! I had a very specific idea of where it took place, and the various miscellany only heighten an unspoken degree of significance to everything around them. In the end, I feel that ordinary objects in the background tend to stand out more when coupled with extraordinary scenes in the foreground.
Thank you for your thoughtful post. I'm happy to have read it. ^^
Yeah, I was very pleased with all the detail she added into the background! I had a very specific idea of where it took place, and the various miscellany only heighten an unspoken degree of significance to everything around them. In the end, I feel that ordinary objects in the background tend to stand out more when coupled with extraordinary scenes in the foreground.
Thank you for your thoughtful post. I'm happy to have read it. ^^
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