Today I give you... wilder-nerfs! Which, to be honest, has very, very little to do with this book, except for one brief mention: "Wedge smiled as he watched a herd of wilder-nerfs spread out over a far hill like an inky black stain on the golden carpet." Do nerfs have any significance to the story? No, not really. Why did I choose to sketch them? Because... nerfs! Why would I not want to draw them?
As another brief change of scene from the standard sketches-from-books, today I offer you a rough clay maquette of a book character -- Ixil (plus one of his outrider ferrets, Pax) from Timothy Zahn's The Icarus Hunt.
The Icarus Hunt is one of my all-time-favorite books. You can bet that eventually I'll make a post with sketches from it!
My brother took one look at this book and made a dismissive comment, something along the lines of "That is definitely not my kind of book."
I laughed, because it does look pretty silly on the surface, but it's actually surprisingly engaging. In all fairness, he's probably right about it not being his kind of book. However, I found that despite my own doubts as to whether or not it would be my kind of book... I enjoyed it, and am interested in reading the next in the series.
Sure, it's a book about a "princess academy", but it's also a book by SHANNON HALE, so who cares if the premise sounds silly?
The final exam
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Qui-Gon reached inside the pocket of his robe. "And he reminded me of something important." "A clue?" He handed Obi-Wan a pastry he had plucked from Manex's tray on the way out. "Even in the middle of a mission, don't neglect to taste the pastries."
The worker shifted her feet. She was constantly moving as Obi-Wan asked her questions. And she seemed so nervous. "No, but they had to file a flight plan." Gazing at Obi-wan, she wiggled her foot. Obi-Wan noticed the movement and looked down. A small hand was curled around the worker's ankle.
"That's my boy, Ned," she said in a whisper. "Please don't report me. I had to bring him to work this week. My mother is ill and she's the one who takes care of him."
Monsieur Cocq de Noir, Maria, and Wrolf in the pine-woods
. . . And then it seemed as though the light were taking form. It was still light, but within the light there were shapes moving that were made of yet brighter light; and the shapes were those of hundreds of galloping white horses with flowing manes and poised curved necks like the necks of the chessmen in the parlour, and bodies whose speed was the speed of light and whose substance seemed no more solid than that of a rainbow; and yet one could see their outline clear-cut against the night-dark background of the trees . . . They were the sea-horses galloping inland, as Old Parson had told Maria that they did, in that joyful earth-scamper of theirs that ushered in the dawn.
