Sketched up Garvan the Lapine, a character Dan is writing about this month. I didn't do any pre-sketches -- this exercise is meant to be done 'cold' -- so it's ended up looking hideous. Blaaaaarh, still can't handle line weights. Oh well, practice practice.

PS I need more fuel. Have a couple of ideas for the other two options Spyder gave me, but those will run out soon. Comment away, and let your imagination run wild.

Between work (tenth revision on a poster in as many days, each one more mind-numbingly wronger than the last), nanowrimo (slow and steady, but winning still undecided, and I'm just going to continue this bastard until it's done) and life in general, I'm really fatigued. I need something to do (something frivolous).

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To say that I am behind in my unofficial nanowrimo effort at this point would be a gross understatement.

I currently stand at word zero.

"What then," you might ask, "is the excerpt that was just posted before this?"

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Sometime close to dawn, Sculler was snoring away in his bunk, half of his right leg slung over the side. He was snoring twice as loudly as a person who'd just come off a double shift of guard duty should. Some of the other troops had taken bets on whether he had, on purpose, cast a spell on himself to amplify the volume of his snores; simply his move in the latest round of the little chess game of pranks and practical jokes that he, as youngest, was frequently subject to.

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eep.

It's already technically the 2nd, and I haven't written a word.

eep.