2014 art. An adopted character that came to be known as Deneb, and was the basis of a race I refer to simply as "Longtails". Later on, a friend suggested they resemble jerboas to a degree so I include that as a search tag even if it's not 100% accurate.
A bit of development has occurred in the years since I typed up the original description, and while most of it still holds true (aside from that "afraid of needles" bit, as he developed further, I decided he's a junkie that uses glowing Space Heroin that comes in funky Space Syringes), I may as well just copy and paste the description here.

Like most of the adoptables I picked up, the original creator seems to have long since vanished from the internet.

Original description from the submission page:
An adoptable I picked up from [redacted dead account]

I fell in love with his design, he looks like something that is right up my alley yet new and different at the same time so I went for it!
I really love the detail on his thigh-a shaved patch where his prison ID number has been tattooed on him. He must be in for life.
When I started to draw him he did wind up a bit shorter and stockier than the original but I thought that added a bit of cuteness so I went with it.

Don't worry that this is going to be some character I am constantly torturing or anything-he's a criminal by design so it just seemed appropriate to establish early on that he's someone that's in a lot of trouble, and many good fugitive tales start with a daring escape and a bit of mystery regarding what got them in trouble, so it's probably best to start with him already incarcerated.
Given that he looks rather alien, I decided that he is an alien, and he's currently in a cell on a prison ship, hence the forcefield on his rather "cozy" accommodations. While I was drawing him, though, I already began to think up the beginning of his story...

This is convict #714-147-4114. He can't tell you his name-regulations state that any inmate that has been deemed "volatile" or "unstable" must remain muzzled and shackled at all times for the safety of themselves and others. He's been deemed "highly volatile" and "mentally unstable" and hasn't been without his muzzle since his trial. Then again, he's been imprisoned for so long that even if he could speak to you, he would probably tell you that his name is "714-147-4114" as he resigned himself to being identified by that number after a while. (I admit that I am doing this partly to buy some time to think up a suitable name for him.)

He can't tell you what he's in for-despite having quite the criminal record for one as young as he is, it's never been anything quite as serious as what got him into his current predicament. He can't tell you how some of his hair was found at the crime scene, or how his hair and fingerprints got on the weapon, but he also can't tell you that he doesn't have a good alibi for that night either. He would tell you that he had nothing to do with what happened and he had never seen her before, and whoever she was she probably didn't deserve what happened to her, and that he threw out that gun a few days earlier since he finally wanted to get his life in order.

He can't tell you that he's been sentenced to spend the rest of his life in exile on a penal colony on a distant planet as a convict laborer. He can't tell you how he's secretly very afraid of needles and almost fainted twice as they tattooed his new "identity" onto his thigh, or how he did actually pass out when they implanted the little tracking chip in the same area, like the identity chips sometimes implanted in pets should they become lost. He lost track of how long he's been in that cramped, cold, empty cell, or how degrading it is to have one of the guards run a razor over his tattoo every so often to keep his hair from growing over his ID number. He can't tell you how degrading it is to have someone pass a scanner over that area to read his ID chip and the little "beep" that comes with the scanner registering his ID number, statistics, status and sentence. He can't tell you how he hurt his wrist struggling to get out of the cuffs, and he can't tell you how fearful he is about what his future might have in store for him once he finally arrives at his new "home"...