The Ugliest OwletThe Ugliest Owlet by Furrama
In a hot wet wood at the middle of the world sat an owl in his dead tree. In his beak was clutched a mouse, caught a few miles away at a more reasonable hour. The noon day sun blared overhead, stinging his eyes. His face was not what one would call pleasant, as his brows met together in an unbreakable scowl, and his fierce squinting didn't help matters much, but through it all he seemed almost giddy.
He waited just outside of the hollow that his mate had made her nest in many weeks before. It wasn't long before her head appeared, looking tired and bedraggled. Blinking heavily, she spied the mouse, and leaped out to take it from her mate's beak. It went down in one gulp.
“Have they hatched yet Love?” the male asked as the mouse's tail disappeared down his mate's gullet.
Love bobbed her head up and down. “You had better get more Honey, your little ones are tired after a long day of hatching.”
|I graduated from Harding University with a BFA in Art and Graphic Design in 2009. I spend my time doodling animals in a void and love working with various kinds of ink pens, though I'm coming around to flat digital painting. I also spend a lot of time away from dA writing (and rewriting and rethinking) my novel, The Tree of Babylon, as well as working on video games that you may or may not get to see someday.|
Reblog on Tumblr: furrama.tumblr.com/post/115444…
Here’s some art for a game that I was designing end of last year. It got dropped when I realized that the idea was beyond our scope and that babies require more attention than I remembered. It was one of three (four?) ideas and was the first to get scrapped. (Right now all game making is on hold.)
It would have been a 2D platformerish/exploration/survival game with no dialog or text, wherein you would play as a woman of light, sent down to a world of darkness by the rays of an old sun. She would find and care for an abandoned baby shadow creature, blessing it with sight, influencing how it grew by day, and protecting it and herself from other hungry shadows by night.
As the seasons would pass from spring to summer to autumn to winter the shadowling would grow to adapt to the environment that they spent the most time in during that season. There are many possible outcomes for the shadowling’s growth, even more than pictured, as each season brings a new growth cycle. In spring the head would take shape. In summer the body type and legs. In the fall a tail would form. In the winter something unique. Would the creature grow a flying type feature in the spring cycle, then an attack feature in the summer? Perhaps a running or swimming feature in the fall, or even a burrowing one? The combinations are many and the creature cared for would be unique.
As the seasons pass into the darkest months the creature would grow stronger, while the woman of light would grow weaker. Where she once carried the shadowling, the shadow would grow to carry her. In the end the player would have to leave the woman of light for the first time, now solely controlling the creature to try and care for the woman and stay alive in the harsh and cruel winter. The ending one would get would depend on how the creature chose to live apart from the woman. Will the creature devour other shadows, the only abundant source of food, and become one of them again, its sight and inner light diminishing as the world goes completely dark forever? Or will it go far and find the last remaining sun grown foods, in the end rising up to take the place of the dying sun above?
Hmmm, I think motherhood and nurturing-ness was really on my mind at the time I came up with this, eh?