"Excuse me," said the girl very politely to the strange creature on the rock, "But I found this stuffed rabbit here. It is yours?"

It blinked awake, perceived the small human below it, and answered the question with a swift dart of its sticky tongue. There was a brief, panicked cry, the slurp of a body being drawn into the anteater's rubbery snout, and finally a heavy, wet gulp. A bulge moved slowly through the thick fur of its neck and added to the roundness of the anteater's pudgy middle.

A moment later it spat the stuffed rabbit back out, for it was a savorless, indigestible thing. It belched and settled down to wait out the struggles of the meal kicking in its belly, conserving energy with near immobility. After all, there was no telling how long it would be before the next thing small enough to swallow happened by, whether by chance or attracted by the stuffed animals it had learned to leave as lures.

I was thinking of doing a short comic about the anteater, who while he doesn't hunt children on purpose, is perfectly willing to eat them if they get close enough to grab with its tongue. This sketch is mostly a design study for its body form, which I don't think I have quite right yet.