his time the line art was drawn by Frisket! Colored by Luminary. Watercolor and color pencil. It was a fun piece to collaborate on!
Story by Frisket:
The snapped twig and disturbed leaves were proof enough of menfolk for Phoebe. The elephantess narrowed her eyes, her broad brow furrowing as she shouldered a javelin – her weapon of choice for prey that preferred to run. While the pachyderm was not fleet of foot, she was certainly quick with the thin thrown weapons – and one launched form her arm was as deadly as that of any male warrior.
Pausing to think, one of the amazon's large ears perked – a splash from the river. She smiled. There would be sport after all!
Despite her size, the elephant was full of grace and poise, slipping through the trees like a grey shadow. The occasional splotch of golden sunlight that managed to break through the dense jungle canopy brought flashes of white to her grey hide as it illuminated her huntress' paints. No amazon would be without these totems of strength, speed and faith. The goddess was smiling on her this day, she knew, as she crept through the undergrowth.
The jackal had no idea she was there. A good twenty yards out still, the elephant unshouldered her quiver of javelins and rose from the lush garden with her favored weapon. A single one of her javelins was as thick as the man's wrist – should her aim be true, she would not need another.
“Manbeast!” she trumpeted in the amazon language, her trunk rising. The jackal jumped clear into the crystal waters of the river with a yelp and a splash. Already the rush of the hunt was upon Phoebe, and she stalked into the waters of the river. The rush of blood in her ears was almost loud enough to drown out the waterfall upstream. The jackal surfaced and sputtered, his foppish merchant hat ruined and plastered to his skull, the expensive feather floating down the river on a merry little journey.
“You are tresspassing in Her wilds,” Phoebe said, the short, pointed words of her amazon heritage firing into him like arrows as she gripped the javelin over her shoulder. She stepped into the shallows and looked as menacing as she could, wanting the jackal to squirm at the sight of her full amazon might. While she did not understand the jackal's ears and muzzle suddenly pinking with a deep blush, nor his easy – almost insistent – capture, she was certain this jackal would make an excellent addition to the camp in the direct service of the beautiful High Priestess Elana. The jackal babbled in his high-pitched tongue as she led him deeper into the forest, his tail wagging excitedly. She sighed. While the workings of the High Priestess were a mystery to all but a select few of her tribe, she wondered exactly why the menbeasts they brought in always seemed so eager to become eunuchs.