1.18.2011

Art: 030/100 Themes – Under the Rain

"Sun pluvea." Under the Rain. 030/100 Themes.

Rivek's foster father is the lord of a very pretty, small, seaside town. The three of them take their summer holidays there the year after Willow first arrives at their school.

Willowren used to mad crush on Bohren. Too bad he's gay. Then again, at sixteen, he doesn't know that yet.

Jesus, my anatomy took a hit on this one, too. Have to get back into figure drawing, I guess.



Willowren knew her legs were shorter, but she absolutely refused to come in second. She turned around and saw Bohren a good thirty feet or so behind her. Burying his sandals at the beach had bought her an early advantage.

She rounded a corner to duck out of eye-shot and into the hedge that surrounded the Cordelain manor. Not exactly behavior fit for a princess, but her mother was thankfully nowhere nearby to admonish her. She yelped as a dripping branch smack her across the forehead, leaving a pink welt in its wake. "Shit," she muttered under her breath. Also very unbecoming of a princess.

Emerging from the brush with a number of new scrapes, she turned around to gauge her progress but was distracted by the hazy, gray sky. She wiped the water from her eyes. The sight of rainclouds hovering over the open ocean was still new to her. After all, up until a year ago, she'd been living in a country whose largest water source were lakes fed by melting mountain ice. The lakes were big in their own way, but it was like comparing a very large chicken to an adult horse.

Unfortunately, for all her clever planning, Bohren still had longer legs. His muttered cursing over his muddy sandals caused her to break into a run again, stifling a laugh.

Panting, she dashed up the remaining few yards to the back kitchen door. Despite its weight, she flung it open with energy from excitement. And with just as much enthusiasm, she slammed it shut. The force caused a wooden bowl to come rattling off a nearby countertop, spilling its contents - soaking lentils - all over the ground. She leaned back against the door for a quick breath which immediately turned into a hearty laugh.

"I see this is the type of decorum they're teaching young ladies at the palace these days," the cook snorted.

Willow just shrugged and lifted her sopping bangs out of her eyes.

"Oh, you have no need for apologies, do you, princess?" Her stammering was interrupted by a rhythmic knock on the door.

She leaned against the keyhole, "What's the password?"

"Password? You've got to be kidding me. Uh... abra-ca-fucking-dabra."

"Nope, try again."

"Password."

"I'm not that stupid."

"Will is amazing and smart and beautiful, and I will never again challenge her to a footrace."

She opened the door just a crack. Bohren stood under the awning, dripping wet and getting further drenched in the rain every second. He had removed his shirt and was using it to wipe his forehead, but it didn't wipe the smirk off his face.

Perfect. Just how she had planned it.

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I have a backlog of these - and I will be uploading them once a day until our artbook pre-order is over.

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