Piper
Woodcarver

Loves to work with wood washed upon the shore



Adopt by Snek

The shoreline was beautiful as the sun was getting low against the horizon, making the sands seem to glow warmer and the wavetips glitter with excitement. Piper was walking along the still portion of the sand, enjoying the soft give and the cool sand between her toes. She was on the lookout for weathered drift wood of all types, large and small, straight and misshapen, and placing it in the bag at her hip.

She liked to breathe life into the wood, carving and creating anything from fauna, flora, structures, and symbols. Sometimes, if she had enough of the right pieces, she could even make elegant furniture, like chairs and chandeliers.

With a full bag, she settled on a soft patch of sea grass and sand. Staring out at the horizon, she absentmindedly reached into her bag, feeling the smooth wood and tracing their shapes. It was mesmerizing, as though her fingers were tracing a wooden sea surface, weaving up, down, and around with its curves. Upon feeling one driftwood piece that felt inviting to carve, she pulled it out and analyzed it with her eyes.

It looked like a long fish with its nose pointed downards and back arcked...well, almost, but she can coax out the finer details. Piper removed the carving knife tied to her belt and began to whittle pieces of the wood. Soon there was a pair of eyes staring ahead. Then gills. Fins pressed against its body emerged, where a dragon could feel its textures when drawing his fingers against them. A dorsal came next, and finally the tail fin.

Holding it to the dimming light, the fish looked ready to jump out of the palm her hand and into the water. She smiled, satisfied with her craftmanship and placed it gently beside her in the sand. The sun was now resting its body against the sea, scattering a spectaculr set of colors in the sky as though it was in its death throes as the water was extinguishing it.

Her eyes drank in the scene before her. Piper breathed in deeply, savoring the salty smell. Waves washed against the shore in a rhythmic pattern, lulling the world with a lullaby and inviting it to sleep. Nothing was more peaceful at this moment. Nothing.


Art by chibimieze


Art by RobotNix