Fox Tales WK#38 : Announcing contest winners and a new story image!

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If you love writing stories then this contest is for you! Write a one paragraph story about the image pictured above. Be creative, think outside of the box and follow the listed rules!

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Hello writers and fellow art lovers! Sorry for the delay in making this announcement post! A lot has happened over the past week and I’m doing what I can everyday to keep things moving. There were a couple of days where I stayed up late drawing and coloring but I had to stop to give my eyes a break. I was staring at the same image for too long and everything was starting to get muddled. Thankfully something clicked and this week’s image came together beautifully! I did reaveal the cropped version of this drawing yesterday, not sure if any of you writers saw my little note in that post.

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I began this drawing knowing that it would eventually be completed in full color for foxtales. I didn’t plan the color scheme ahead of time but left a mental note, saying that I should chose something based on my mood. Obviously my mood changed several times since it took me forever to get this image done!

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The progress...

_{All my drawings are original sketches drawn digitally by me on the Procreate App using the iPad Pro with Apple Pencil.}

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I began sketching lightly with a pencil too. It was so light that I had to multiply the layer for a bold line.

Next, a light shadow base using the round brush tool.

Then a highlight base.

Another later of both shadows and highlight.

I darkened the brows, added definition to the eyes which lead me to deepen the contours of the face and body.

I slowly introduced warmer tones by starting with a light peachy nude.

Then I added a brighter tone on the high points of the face and lips. Still sticking with a pinky, orange color.

Base color for the hair. I wanted a whole new texture so I painted it in with the watercolor brush.

I grabbed a brighter shade of pink for the highlights and a deeper color for the shadows.

Lowering the brush size I began to add strokes of textures in a lighter shade and then that same vibrant pink.

For contrast I painted in darker strands of hair.

Then, for a bolder look I darkened her features once again. The brows and eyes really pop now. I also added some of the colors from her hair shade to her lips and cheeks which pulled the look together.

Highlights in white and she’s all done!

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Prizes:

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1st // 5 STEEM
2nd // 3 STEEM
3rd // 1 STEEM

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Contest Rules:

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• Upvote & Resteem this post.
• Create a separate post with your one paragraph stories.
• Maximum length 300 words. (I’ll be monitoring this closely!)
• Use the #foxtales tag.
• Usage of the current story image in your post is optional.
• Submit your post in the comment section below. (I’ll sharing links to the stories submitted this way in the following Fox Tales announcement post!)
• Maximum of 3 entries (only one story per person will qualify for a portion of the prize pool each week.)
• Deadline is this post’s payout.

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WEEK #37 WINNERS & STORIES!

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1st place // @calluna “The Weight Of Support”

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_{There was so much missing that made it her. The wear on her knuckles, the faint scar on her forefinger, the stiff joints that engorged in the cold. The gentle push of nail into skin, suppressing the rising tingle of anxiety. The ghost of a ring, a groove still visible after she took it off. Her nails, the delicate curve of keratin, peeking over the tip of her finger, the hours of gardening, and the permanent black outline caught in her nail bed. The way the skin stained with the earth they sank into, nibbled pink and blue with the hungry kisses of cold. She always refused to wear gloves in the garden, the feel of the damp ground, teasing apart roots between her finger tips. There was so much she’d miss, she knew she should be grateful for what she had, it was so much more than most, but still… touching his face, the bending prickle of his morning stubble as she pulled him closer. The warmth of his skin as she slipped that same hand under the blankets, tracing his torso as she sank into his embrace. So much she’d never know again. Biting her lip, she pushed back tears, they had worked so hard to raise the money for this, she couldn’t let them see her cry now. She tensed the muscles in her forearms, her newly printed prosthetic fingers rippling, the metallic plating of her bionic joints forming open mouths with each movement. The synthetic smoothness, the lack of feedback. She tried to grip the curtain, to pull it back and face her excited family. The plastic fabric ripped, breaking free of the thin plastic hooks, crumpling before her, falling in a slumped pile of torn hopes.}

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2nd place // @gaby-crb “Monthly”

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_{Mum told me to get over it. I squeezed the pillow tighter. Tears pooled out of my eyes, the pain was becoming unbearable. I could still feel the traces of the dry painkiller stuck in my throat. My taste buds craved something sweet, the phantom smell of chocolate. Mum had told me the pain would go away, that all women faced it. The tears subsided but the crying had carved out my insides leaving me a hollow shell curled up on my bed. I decided I didn’t want to be a woman if I had to face this agony every month. I am not ill or sick. I am not allowed to scream and cry. I am not supposed to talk about it. My hands gripped tighter as another spasm wrenched my body.}

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3rd place // @chinyerevivian “Mystery”

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_{It all began when he was just a boy. The first time it happened, he was playing hide and seek with his best friend in his Mama's farm. Before that day, it was only a tingle on his middle finger which he ignored. The feeling had gotten so intense during the game and wouldn’t go away, so he began to scratch it unconsciously while hiding behind a grain sac. The first sign was a red line at the back of his right hand. His Mama applied ointment on it without saying a word. She also refused to answer his questions. He never understood it fully. He could only describe his hands with one word; sentient. He came to accept it when he discovered he could change lives with only a touch. The more he healed, the more wrinkled it turned till it became the oldest part of his body. Everyday for forty years, he sat on the same chair, a low stool carved from the strongest of woods. He would link his fingers together and place them over his stomach, speaking quietly to himself. Little children called him strange and sang songs with his name. Young adults who didn’t understand avoided him. Others called him a seer. But those who knew who he really was sought his healing and advice.}

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Thanks so much to all the writers who participated!

_{⬇️ Please take the time to visit the links to their stories below!⬇️}

_{Writers listed in alphabetical order.}

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“A Memory In The Making” 

“The Weight of Support” “His Moment” 

@calluna

“Mystery” 

@chinyerevivian

”Monthly” 

@gaby-crb

”Memories...” 

@seesladen

“Bed ridden” “Clothe-care” “Holding” 

@theironfelix

”Talking hands” 

@wakeupkitty

“Faults” 

@wems

“Sunset” 

@vasigo

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Thanks for stopping by and good luck to those who decide to participate!
Do you have any questions? 🦊

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Check out some of the previous #foxtales posts!

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_{Fox Tales #37} 

_{Fox Tales #36} 

_{Fox Tales #35} 

_{Fox Tales #34} 

_{Fox Tales #33}