#madewithfrosting

There are so many creatures in this world—strange, snarling, skittering things that lurk in caves or guard forgotten treasures. But not all of them are enemies. Some are stories with fur and fangs. Some are just very large problems with very specific boundaries.

I’ve seen beasts made of moss and bones. I’ve outwitted a mimic disguised as a confession booth. Once, I shared a campfire with a creature that only spoke in riddles and snored like a foghorn. I’m still not sure if that was a dream or not.

These sketches are just a handful of those memories, captured the only way I know how, quick strokes, smudged edges, a bit of mystery left in the corners. I never draw them as they are. I draw them as I remember surviving them.

Adventure isn’t about the fight—it’s about what you carry back with you… teeth marks and all.

Every place I wander leaves a shape behind in my memory, etched in ink, shaded with wonder.

The elves of Velain make such amazing homes, cleverly perched in the treetops, where scrolls hang from branches like windchimes. I stayed just long enough to borrow one.

A witch’s hut crouched in the swamp’s throat, her chimney sighing dreams. She offered tea. I declined. I regret that.

Beyond the mountains I once spied a great castle. It was a keep I glimpsed only once, silhouetted in the frosty sky. I never found a road that led to it… just a path that vanished up into the remotest peaks.

These are sketches from my travels—inked not just in lines on a page, but in memory. I share them not as maps, but as whispers. Maybe you’ll hear them too.