#ingvar

Hopefully Alaska isn't too upset that his hat is missing

Awesome ych comm I got from @solarpawbs

Brother Band Chronicles - The herons

————————

You know, I thought it’d be nice to reread an old childhood book I love so.

…. BUT I HAD TO BE EXTRA- and draw them all. While I am so proud I drew them all my hand cramps in pain q-q

Concern | AF 2025 - 14

My final attack of the year was a revenge for a lovely drawing Marker made of Ithadel mending some clothing!

.

"Ingvar? The boy mountain?"

More Brotherband chronicles fanart!

Also if you don't know Wulf's name is pronounced

Ingvar and Hilda for the incredible @giaunt, who is a great pal and a wonderful writer! Thank you so much for letting me draw them yet again! I wonder what Hilda's talking about?

@giaunt :

Ingvar noticed Ithadel staring as though about to speak, and he tilted his head, curious to hear that which he said. Why, upon hearing it, his heart must have sunken to the very soles of his boots. "O— of course. I may be... doing so," replied he softly, though he quickly realized that there existed a terrible problem. If he were to back up, then he would need to get up from whence he knelt. And if he should stand... oh, Goddess, how greatly would he frighten the poor creature, if he were this afraid of him kneeling there? He felt his chest tighten as though his heart were seized by some invisible, gargantuan grasp; and hesitated. (Could he see it, the creature? Could he see the terror in his eyes about what it was his backing upmight wrought?) No. No, no; he could not simply remain there. He'd already told him he would provide him more space. And this he truly had no trouble doing, if only he needn't stand for it. But he must. And to it he had already agreed. He swallowed, and nodded, and he put both hands upon his front thigh and stood only so far as need be in order for his back leg to leave the ground, and he tip-toed five or six little steps back (for, crouched so, it was not easy to take normal strides), which were about equivalent to three steps of a normal gait — that was, normal for a being so large. And just as soon as he had done this, he knelt again, and attempted to make himself look as small as possible, shoulders hunched and head low, trunk bent downwards at the waist, and weight upon the hands which were atop the upright thigh.

The sound of the giant’s movement was quieter than Ithadel expected. In those first few moments before Ithadel could tell which direction that motion took, it was hard for even him to tell whether his throat tightened more with dread for his own safety, or with his mortification at having his irrational plea indulged. 

Either way, Ithadel dropped his forehead to one lifted knee in a selfish search for the muffling dark therein. He tried to tell himself that the twist in his stomach was illness.

It wasn’t, of course.

Rather than face that queasy tangle of emotion, Ithadel forced himself to straighten and open his eyes as soon as the sound of rustling foliage and the shifting of immense weight upon the earth stopped. His shoulders soon slumped with relief. He’d braced himself for the giant’s full standing height, a spectre which for the moment he’d been spared… and it truly was an immense relief to feel less loomed-over. 

It was easier to meet the giant’s gaze, now, at this distance; easier to see the worried pinch of the giant’s expression for what it was, to take in the self-effacing hunch of his figure. Ithadel still found it difficult to believe that the giant’s motivation was truly something so simple as altruism… but even so, guilt rose in his chest. 

Enough of this. Ithadel was being cowardly and rude. It was unacceptable conduct, and poor strategy besides.