Sadly, my last challenge pic was declined due to...well obvious reasons. In short, I got censored. Gonna have to try again.

lmao Well, I think it was more the cannibalism and the werewolfism brought on by menses mentioned in the description that turned them off. They're okay with some gore. But I guess this was a bit too dark for them.

Yet another image that was declined from my DA art group. This is Hayden and another werewolf character from the group. No they are not having sex. Both characters have some issues and they show their affection by beating the crap out of one another. But apparently they're still being too sexual for the admins' comfort. To them it's 'furry erotica'....Yeah. Not sure how much longer I'm going to be with this group. Their content policies are very confusing, especially since they don't have anything posted about what is considered appropriate. I should think that two werewolves showing affection for one another would be preferable to gore...I'm not really sure what they expect them to do. I guess next time I'll just draw them standing there looking beautiful with beads in their flowing manes and feathers around their waists ala Goldenwolf. -_- (No offense to Goldenwolf, I love her work. But, my werewolves are snarly and like to maul things.)

That group struck me as very . . . . uh, controlling. Sucks they keep censoring you.

Character for my RP/Art challenge group on DeviantArt. http://silver-and-bone.deviantart.com/
(And also main character in my novel, The Monster of Amber Peace.)



'Nother pic of Hayden. Just 'cause....Gonna go back and redo this one, methinks. Did it as kind of a stress relief from working on a commission and now there's a lot of things that are bugging the hell out of me. >.<

Last edited by RedMoonstruck (2011-07-31 16:06:43)

Wowsah Your artwork is brilliant. Particularly enjoyed the Hayden expression exploration

"A change is a catastrophic event. It's... indescribable, really. When it happens it feels bigger than you, bigger than your whole world. Worse, it's the force that shapes it. Change is both a thing and an action; it does and is. But once it starts, it can't be stopped. You feel like the rocks in the tides, only what the surf takes millenia to do to a shoreline, only takes the change moments to do to your body.

Some people think it's just your body that changes, you aren't aware of it as you slip away as though caught in a violent current.

But you know.

You're aware of everything. You're aware of that hard, grinding feeling in your bones, the taste of blood and dirt in your mouth, like being dragged against pavement. Your body is cruel, it keeps your mind trapped within it because it doesn't want to be left alone with the pain. You cry out, but you find that your vocal chords have paralyzed as they, too, twist inside your throat. And for all of a few seconds, which can feel like a few days, the wind has been forced out of you because you try so hard to let the world know. You're left alone with the squelching, organic ensemble of bones shifting, muscles stretching, and nerves firing. The static in your ears is deafening and you nearly rip your own skin off trying to tear it out of your body.

And the only solace, the only rush of blessed relief you receive, is when that last bone slips into place; that last nerve shorts itself out. Only then can you see what this change is all about.

Some people may say change is good; that it feels good. Power flowing through you, light shining inside of you like a nuclear generator. Maybe. It can feel like that. If you don't fight it. But most of us do, because we don't like change. And to those who call for it, embrace it as a gift, relish in its symbolism, I say, let their muscles twist like taffy, let >their bones feel like its stretching out your skin like a sheet on laundry day, let their vocal chords freeze. I say, let them stay mute."


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Autumn, the main character in my book, is very uncomfortable with what she is for the first little bit. She's very cynical. Transformation in my story isn't really a beautiful thing, but a lycanthrope's body does get used to it after a while and it becomes less painful as time goes on. Some characters describe as a "beautiful pain".

...One of these days I swear I'm going to do werewolf art without blood. I actually tried to do this without any blood, but I felt, not only did the red help balance out the composition, but also complimented the theme. I'd almost imagine that you would probably be losing a lot more than just blood if you were transforming as violently, but any more graphic and it would detract from everything else, methinks.


Autumn Isen (c) Cassandra Aponte 2011

You embrace your wolf, seeing it as a new way of life. A member of Versipellis has found you and brings you into the forest. They want you to revel in the joys of the wolf and of what being a werewolf could mean. How do you embrace your wolf?

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I had never been part of a 'Pack' before. The word didn't really have much meaning to me before I met Bjorn and Alicia Pannerup. For a while, I clung dearly to my old way of life. For nearly a year and a half, I had lived largely alone, set adrift in a vast sea of seemingly endless wilderness. It felt like a nexus, a literal landscape of my subconscious, a place to rest between the striking realities of who I used to be and what I had become. After being confined for so long, I hardly knew what to do with myself.

I don't really recall a lot from that time except that I was regularly visited by a golden wolf. I knew from his scent that it was the man from the symposium though for a time I thought he was an hallucination brought on by starvation. At first, he kept his distance from me and gradually got close enough to seize the back of my neck in his jaws and throw me to the ground, completely betraying the trust he seemed to have so meticulously constructed over the past however long. I always resisted him, never making things easy though over time I grew to enjoy our games and I began to enjoy his company. After all, he was like me. We seemed to have come to a mutual understanding; I would do as he said without protest as long as he would ask nicely and treat me with respect.

We spent most of our time in our fur coats. As I said before, I'm not entirely sure what happened during those times. It all feels like a dream now. I tend to think that much of it comes out in my paintings. I remember growing rather attached to him, and on those days he would mysteriously disappear, I would spend hours howling until my throat became sore.

And by the end of it all, Hayden had had me convinced of my true nature. We were insatiable, irredeemable, murderers. The cruel, bloodthirsty tyrants of both the animal kingdom and that of man - the perfect, terrible fusion of both; a pure symbol of chaos and insanity. Demons. Beasts. Worse. We lurked in the night like fairy tale monsters waiting to ambush unsuspecting creatures, humans and their families were no exception. Everything that could bleed was fair game.

And yet a part of me, perhaps the last light of humanity that still flickered in a hidden part of my bestial soul, knew that it wasn't true. I remember having moments of clarity that became more frequent as time went on; as if I had gone so far over the edge, I was coming full circle. I recall one time I awoke digging into a cow's carcass like a rabbit into a hole and almost panicking because I couldn't remember where I was or how I had gotten there. Hayden later told me that he thought I was having a seizure as for the next few minutes I sat perfectly still as my mind began to reset.

Eventually, after a night of darkness, pain, and new sensations that weren't altogether disagreeable, I awoke next to Hayden, perfectly naked; the both of us. As I sat up, staring into my hands, at the very first moment, growing frightened that all my fur seemed to have fallen out and my talons shed, I remembered who I was - what I was. And as I looked over and saw him laying there, smug even in his sleep, overwhelming rage filled my breast. Without thinking, I stood up, collected a large, nearby stone and lifted it over his head.

He awoke just in time and we fought, our bodies still too weary from the night before to change and engage in proper battle. It didn't stop me from finding a hold on his shoulder with my teeth and not letting go until he had struck me hard enough to knock me unconscious.

When I awoke, he was gone, but the wound and the concussion remained. Luckily it takes more than that to kill something like us. I stumbled through the forest for a few days, feeling lost not only within the landscape itself, but within my own head. I longed to once again be embraced by my wolf. Existing was too difficult, too overwhelming, especially in a place so far from civilization although by that point I hardly recalled what it was. I just knew that I was no longer equipped to live in a dimension without clothes, warmth and shelter. But my wolf didn't come no matter how hard I tried to summon it, and just when I was sure I had been left behind by everyone, Hayden once again appeared.

We had a long talk after that, and finally I agreed to come with him. After getting myself cleaned up and looking presentable again, he brought me to an elderly couple. I remember when Bjorn answered the door and looked into Hayden's eyes, he froze and glowered at him as if willing him to leave without bothering with words. The clever Englishman re-introduced himself as well as myself, and as Alicia came up behind her husband, I witnessed her entire demeanor change as her grey eyes fell upon me. And suddenly I was more frightened of them than I ever was of Hayden. There was a kindness in her smile to which I was not accustomed and a sort of gentle sternness in Bjorn that reminded me too much of my foster father, Dr. Ben Hallowell, at first for me to even talk to him.

Never before had I seen such old wolves. I had no idea that we could live that long. Though they were old, however, they really looked no more than sixty or so. They were like the grandparents I never knew I needed. Hayden knew what he was doing and it was a very unusual act, not only as an Ulfhednar elder, but as himself, to take me to people he knew could help me. I must have made quite the impression on him.

Bjorn and Alicia slowly unraveled everything that Hayden had so tightly woven into me. Slowly, the etiquette of living among humans and eventually my original personality began to develop once again. The old Versipellis couple taught me that the road that Hayden had chosen was only one of many. It's up to us as individuals to find our place in this world, even something as aberrant as a werewolf. They taught me that we were shapeshifters for a reason.


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First image I've completed in PS on my brand spanking new Wacom Cintiq. Stupid thing would not save correctly until I loaded it back into SAI (started the linework there), and saved it again. -_-;

Thank you kindly. <3

Thank you. ^-^

Noice! Check out that grin of his

An old alpha reasserts his dominance over an uppity, young omega.

Contest entry for the werewolf calendar project thingathing. With stuff. I'm tired. z_z

Very very cool!