My Art

Wild
8 in x 8 in
Standard Typing Paper
Bic ball point pen

 " He Stands Alone "
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He stands alone, upon a rugged cliff, mane and tail
flowing with the breeze.  His muscles rippling
beneath tightly stretched skin.  His head held high,
proudly; majestically he stands alone, still as a statue.

He stands alone, sensing an another stallion in
his domain.  Silently, his keen eyes search for the
intruder in his kingdom.  Slowly, he spots a unknown
animal that resembles a horse, but so unknown to him
is the coloring of this beast.  The horse is a piebald
of color.  It's forelock is a dull, dingy gray. The
mane is a mixture of black, brown, and gray in colored
bands.  It's body is just as oddly colored, with brown
rings around it's eyes.  Where a black band was, that
was the color of the mane.  He had black socks, gray
and brown splashes of color against a white background.
A loud trumpeting call sounded the challenge.
He stands alone no more.

He stands alone no more, as his enemy joins him to do
battle.  As they race towards each other, heads high and
proud, they lurch towards each other, teeth barred and
ears flat against skulls.  In one magnificent leap, the
challenger attacks.  Missing his mark, the champion takes
advantage of the careless mistake.  Grabbing on to the
mane with a vengeance, he tears his mane apart.
       The young challenger screams in terror and pain, twisting
and turning this way and that, trying to get the old
pro off his back.  The champ lost his grip and the young
challenger took advantage of the error.  He clamped down
on the champ's rump and the champ reared to his full
height.  Pivoting on powerful hind legs, with forelegs
thrashing, he lands squarely on the back of his adversary.
With flat teeth used for chewing and grinding down hay
grass, now becoming powerful weapons of death.  With
deadly force, clamps down, breaking the neck.  Screams of
pain and triumph mingled into one hideous, glorious sound.
Rearing high upon powerful legs he lands again and again,
rearing to his full and glorious height.  A call that
started as a deep rumble and turned in to a fearful cry of
triumph. Slowly he walks over to the cliff and and lets
out a whistle. Once again he stands alone.

He's, torn and bleeding.  Painful flies land on his
torn flesh.  His once beautiful golden hide now, is bloody
and torn.  Still he stands alone, he may not be beautiful
anymore, but he still had pride, and he was still the king
of kings.

He stands alone, upon a rugged cliff.
flowing in the breeze.  His muscles rippling beneath
tightly stretched skin.  His head held high, proudly,
   majestically, he stands alone

By: Tanya  Gennale

Tati (as she is affectionately known as)  Is my Favorite so far.   She was 11 Hours with a fine tipped marker and with her, its easy to see the difference the quality of your tools make.

Tatianna
8 in x 11 in
Standard Typing Paper
Extra Fine Tipped Marker