2016 art.

Bellatrix, another Cygnian Longtail. In the original description, I came up with a background story of sorts for her...

Bellatrix always knew the city was a dark place. Her whole life, she saw it looming in the distance, with large spacecraft landing and taking off at all hours and the factories belching smoke into the air and the constant hum of vehicles and machinery radiating quite some distance into the otherwise very quiet desert. Some years ago, her mother had ventured there, and never returned. There were rumors she had been murdered by the criminals that infested the back alleys and slums and industrial districts, but Bellatrix was too afraid to venture to the city to find out for herself... until now.

Having spent what felt like an eternity living alone in her small hut, venturing out daily to hunt for food and to train with her armor and her sword to grow stronger and more skilled, she finally felt ready. That morning, putting on her armor and slinging her sword across her back, she set out towards the massive, sprawling city whose skyline spanned from one horizon to the other, a massive wall of steel and stone.

It took her most of the day to finally reach one of the many entrances to the city, and when she arrived she was greeted by all sorts of unfamiliar sights and sounds. Creatures of races she'd never seen before, dressed in all manner of clothing ranging from simple robes to spacesuits and glossy plastic armors, speaking in dozens of different languages. Strange machines and unusual foods. Shining lights. Yet she was the oddity there, clad in such old armor and carrying such an old sword, attracting the gaze of many passers-by.

As evening fell, she wandered into an alley, looking for a quiet place to rest.
From behind her she heard a voice.
"Well, well, well... what have we here?"

She turned slowly. There was a figure lurking in the shadows, and while she couldn't see him very clearly she could make out his form. He was a Longtail, like her. His eyes were cold and cruel, and he had a blaster rifle slung across his back. She turned to face him, trying to hide her fear.
"If you play nice, I won't have to hurt you..."
Her hands trembled. She could feel her knees shaking, her ears and tail quivering, and she was sure her heart was pounding hard enough for him to hear it. She had no idea if he intended to simply rob her, or if he had far worse things in mind. She stood her ground, still trying to keep her fear from showing.
"Fine, if that's how you want it..."

He stepped forward a bit.
She knew this was it. There was nowhere to run. She had to fight. All her training, all her mental preparation, and she still felt so unprepared and afraid. It was one thing to fight wild creatures, and another to fight a fellow sentient being, especially one that seemed more cruel and dangerous and violent than any beast that roamed the desert. She could tell he was a monster, and there was no reasoning with monsters.
She knew it was kill or be killed.

*As he reached for the rifle slung across his back, she began to draw her sword... *

I'm not much of a writer, but I do try it from time to time, usually for short stories/scenes like this.