Elizabeth Afton Drawing Novels & Stories

Breakfast ended more slowly than I expected. Aurelia insisted on showing me the drawing she'd made after the reception. It consisted mostly of flowers, three smiling stick figures, and what she assured me was a very accurate wolf. "It has four tails," I pointed out. "It was excited." "I see." Kael glanced at the page. "I've never met a wolf with four tails." "You haven't met this one." "I stand corrected." Apparently satisfied, Aurelia folded the drawing with great care before announcing she intended to keep it forever.

Fabian was slightly stunned but he understood her intention from her beautiful, huge eyes. “Is this for me?” Fabian asked gently. Lillian blinked her huge eyes and nodded gently. Fabian took the card happily and carefully opened it. Within it was a drawing. The drawing depicted a tall boy and a small girl, clearly him and Lillian. Lillian’s drawing was very childlike; the contour of the persons was also childishly drawn, and even the colors used were not anything refined.

Episodes 50 “Do not open unless you are Rachel Gerard” she read but open it, she skipped throughout the pages of the journal, they were drawings, scary drawings of dead scenes, each drawings portraying how each person died, with illustrations of their environment, she started at the date at the top of every page circled with a red pen, the dates are body written. She keeps opening to the next pages till she gets to a drawing and she stops this time 'Anetta' is written beside it, she is in front of two people one who just turned to a hot Lava and the other waiting to be turned to it, the date is written too.

I wonder if he's going to kill me. Behind that yellow, charcoal-stained page was the drawing of a face, Artemisia thought it was the weeping being under Delfine's bedroom window. The great aunt had used lipstick to make the eyes and tears in that drawing, the way she had chosen to express his pain made it easy for anyone who saw the drawing to feel those feelings.

A folded piece of paper. Very old. Very worn. Then handed it to Thomas. Thomas unfolded it. And froze. Because it was a drawing. A drawing made twenty years ago. A drawing of a lighthouse. A storm. Five puppies. A little girl holding a younger child. And standing beside them— was Thomas himself. The room went silent. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Then Thomas whispered: "That's impossible." Henry nodded. "That's exactly what Samuel said." Outside— the gigantic shadow beneath the sea suddenly stopped moving.

Still here, I said softly. Eli made a small satisfied sound and leaned back against my chest and looked at the room from this new vantage point with the calm interest of someone who had upgraded their view and approved of the change. I looked at the drawings above the bed. Marker on paper in the bold oversaturated colours of someone who had been given a full set and had used all of them. Shapes that suggested things rather than depicting them. A large yellow circle that was probably the sun and possibly also a face. Several figures of varying sizes that may have been people or animals or both. What appeared to be a house. What appeared to be something flying.

Her toes drew patterns on the floor as she awaited his judgement. "This is good, Freya," Elliot said. He handed the paper over to me. "What do you think, Zora?" The figures Freya drew were beautifully and gaily coloured, but I honestly could not identify what exactly they were. The only thing I could identify with certainty was a figure of a smiling girl in the midst of the other figures. "It's really nice," I said after a moment. "I love what you did with the crayons-" "-but we will appreciate your drawing more if you explain what you drew in detail just like Finn did."

And Elara drew. She drew constantly now, her sketchbook filling with images: Kaelan at the helm, his face carved by wind and sun; Althea sleeping, peaceful in a way she'd never been in the palace; Liam fishing, his concentration absolute; Sera at the tiller, her weathered hands guiding them toward freedom. She drew the sea in all its moods: calm and storm, dawn and dusk, infinite and terrifying. On the third evening, Sera called them together.

"Very right sir." Sebastién breathed out. "Luckily enough Constantine's men made a sketch of this Edwin Hoover." Sebastién pulled something from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, and passed it to Elizabeth. Elizabeth collected the piece of paper, opening it Nicolas leaned in to take a look. Upon seeing the sketch Elizabeth's lips could only twitch and Nicolás reacted with, "Oh my." Sebastién brushed his hair with his fingers. "Yes, Sebastién has shitty artists under him." Elizabeth nodded and looked back at Sebastién. "It is still fine, it is not too bad. If we keep a close eye out we will find this Edwin Hoover."

Aleksander sighed. "Well, there are still a bunch of beautiful ladies around us. You have the looks. It will be so easy for you to end the night in a bed with the woman of your taste," Arthur's eyes followed a woman who smiled at them. "I'm afraid I have to leave you alone for a while, General." "Go on, then." Aleksander nodded softly. "There are wines over there. Loosen up, man." As the host of the evening began to talk about something that General Kius wasn't listening to, Elizabeth entered the palace entrance and caught everyone's eyes on her. The red dress made her the apple of their stares.