Marcella teases her lover Amand on a daily basis, but when she is in her heat cycle, just the simple swaying of her tail is enough to turn the otherwise civil wolf man into an uncontrollable hunk of growls and spears. A visage from the pages of her diary, just as rough and unmannered is their coitus, is as musty and decrepit their backdrop happens to be; an old mill on the verge of rot. The girl may be crying, but they are tears of lust — it’s the way she shows that he fucks her well.
One of my better paintings, and certainly one that soaked in a lot of effort. I consider it the point where I finally began grasping the techniques necessary to render a skilled image showcasing visual depth.
