#ttrpgoc

Drew a bust of my Triangle Agency character Shepherd Wilson (he/she/they).

my DnD OC Maelile, she is a warlock, and expect to see shitton of art of her because i like her a bit too much 🌸

* Chk-Chk

. * BANG * Chk-Chk

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. * BANG * Chk-Chk

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. Red growled as the wind changed directions, blowing her tumble weeds in a way that was harder to shoot. She squeezed her legs around Prongs' midsection, using the pressure her knees and ankles provided to Steer the moving jackalope along to circle the outcrop of rocks where her weeds had blown. Her longtime companion had started getting antsy so Red had taken him on a ride to get some target practice in; or at least that's what the wrangler had told the rest of her party. In reality she was the one getting agitated.

It was that damn peddler again. That silver tongued, sleazy overconfident tall drink of water Russel Navarro.

That stupid man always knew how to get under her skin. Ever since the day they met all those months ago in the train he could play her like a fiddle. Granted he had calmed down significantly from overtly flirting to a more gentlemanly approach.

It made Red want to punch his stupid pretty face.

"Bastard...why does he give so much of a shit anyways..."

*BANG

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. Dammit, a miss. Red lowered her rifle muzzle, signaling for Prongs to pick a different path and break from the circling. She holstered the gun in the custom pocket for it on her saddle, freeing up her hands to hang onto the reigns that had been loosely tied to the pommel.

"Alright old friend, let's get some laps in"

Prongs chuffed in response, bunching up his hind legs and launched into full gallop. Red leaned into Prongs' front, placing her weight better in line to help him run. Her hat slid backwards off of her head and caught on the neck tie under her chin, her hair whipping behind her head in a bouncy curly red mass.

To Red it was like any other ride at speed, working with her jackalope instead of against him, taking in the sights and smells and sounds of being out in nature. To an outsider it was almost picturesce, billowing hair, concentraion written along the freckles on her face, lean lithe body twisting and rocking along with the movement of her mount, the natural grace of a Jackalope in full sprint; one with his wrangler companion. Relaxing but not totally at ease, one could never ever truly let their gaurd down out here, even in The Greens.  She knew someone in her party was watching her, they weren't exactly being sneaky.

It wasn't uncommon for her group to keep tabs on one another. Red watched Sam and Jack, making sure the good Doctor and the idiot gun sligher kept themselves out of trouble. The teacher had grown a soft spot in her heart. Everyone kept their eyes on Bruno, hell it was hard not to. He was a retired fire wrestler who still lit himself on fire for Pete sake! Ozzy, the trapper she terrorized way back in the day, he was one she never thought she could get along with. He kept his eyes on everyone, he tried to keep the peace along with Sam. Tempers were hot in this group, Bruno not withstanding. And even though Russel infuriated her, he was necessary, he was the only healer they had.

Red knew she was being watched. She would be a fool not to know, but she didn't turn to look at him. She would let them look. Let them watch her exert her mastery of her lifelong occupation. Let them watch the way her body moved and shifted.

If they were the deep chocolate eyes under the fringe of hair that looked soft enough to stroke. If they were the eyes attached to the kind warm features, sculpted by his own years of hard work providing medical care....