Almost Something

I feel like it could be something, with some tinkering. Did it without any sort of plan, the "wrong way" to draw. Drew a tree, drew the ground around it, drew some more ground sticking up and a bit farther away. That bit of sky seemed too empty, put a whatever that is there. This can be good way to work, to just kind of get something down without thinking about it. If an image or idea comes out of it that seems like it's worth exploring, well now you have it and you didn't before so that's a good thing.
 

I'm two scotches in, why not an excerpt?

Why not indeed?

“It’s a pretty good scam, Kilbright,” admitted Dhorn. “Wonder why he didn’t let us in on it? Could have faked our deaths.”

“Probably didn’t want to split the payoff three ways,” growled Kilbright.

Valenya shook her head sadly. “Proving my point.”

Kilbright ignored her. “Regardless,” he said, “this could not have come at a worse time. We are both extremely busy men, you know. There are other matters requiring our attention.” He paused thoughtfully, peering into his goblet. “Perhaps it would be wise to delay our current Quest. At least until this business with the Wergild is sorted.” Without preamble, his right eye fell out of its socket and landed in his wine with a plop.

Valenya stood up quickly, almost upsetting the small table. “What…what…”

Kilbright peered glumly down into the cup. His eye bobbed gently in the crimson liquid, seeming to glare balefully back at him. “Of course, the Hunt must take priority. Our own petty legal concerns are of no consequence.” He looked back up at Valenya, who was pointing at him with a shaking hand. “You seem troubled, my lady. Is something amiss?” Both of his eyes were now perfectly normal, if a little bloodshot from fatigue.

“What…what the hell was that?”

Kilbright raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that look! Just now! With your eye!”

“My eye, dear lady? I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.” He smiled sourly and took a sip of his wine.

 
Dhorn sidled up to Valenya. “He’s a bit sensitive about it. Best not to mention it, really,” he said.

I'm on Team 4. That's why the "4".

I have a job I go to every day. Not an artist-y job. I have had a few of those, but this is more of an office-y, phone on the desk with paperclips and sticky notes and numbers and florescent lighting and filing cabinets and posters with a (largely ignored) mission statement and one lady with a glass bowl on her desk that always has mints in it kind of job.
Some of the people at this job have noticed that I used to have artist-y jobs. They sometimes ask me to draw a thing, because sometimes a thing happens in the office and when a thing is happening it's sometimes nice to have a drawing to go with the note that gets tacked onto the bulletin board.
They had a food drive, and while I've had artist-y jobs, office-y jobs, drive-y jobs, clean-y jobs, lift-y jobs, and one time a poison all the vermin-y job, there are some people without any job. So I contributed some actual food, and also a couple of drawings to go with the note that got tacked onto the bulletin board.

I would never say that through my drawings, I single-handedly guaranteed the success of the food drive. There's no way for me to prove it. But I probably did.