Wolfwalkers Artwork Novels & Stories

Instead, she is greeted by a variety of tastefully done oil paintings that were probably waiting to be displayed in the front hall. Erin knew she should call out to Farida, but she was so captivated by the sheer talent displayed here, that all she could do was just stand there and get an eyeful. One huge painting propped on an easel caught her attention, and Erin walked toward it to get a closer look. Standing in front of the easel, her breath left her. The painting showed two giant werewolves standing on a hill at sunset, their eyes trained on a glowing white stone that appeared to float above their heads. What stunned her the most was that one of the werewolves in the painting was her in w

Just then Nicole decided that she was going to gather her own group of werewolves just like the packs that were talked about in the historical books she read, according to the stories she read only a strong werewolf could actually pull the stunt of gathering a pack of wolves of which they were the alpha. Nicole was not one to get discouraged by that, because for her she imagined that the greatest kind of strength anyone needed was the knowledge about something.

My phone vibrated in my purse and I did not bother since I knew it would be Liam. Evangeline managed to get me interested in a conversation and it was about the art works. How her husband got them for her during an auction. She added that he liked art and I did not know when I rose to my feet to stare at a particular one. It was a Lycan Wolf. The eyes were of different colors; one was gold, the other looked red or blue. I narrowed my eyes on the image as I felt oddly attracted to the painting. The hairs around its neck appear to be totally different from that of the soft fur of a wolf. Even for a Lycan. There was a crescent moon attached to it forehead and a ring with ancient lycan writing a

The rest of the night I felt anxious as I slept, that crazy bitch’s smile penetrating my dreams. I awoke not feeling refreshed at all. But it was what it was. I would run anyway, rested or not. I could not rest until I was out of this house and out of this pack. My eyes scanning the room, I noticed that a paper had been slid under the door. I snuck over to pick it up and see what it was. He had drawn a cartoonish portrait of my wolf form lying on his lap with hearts drawn above our heads. For a second, I felt a tenderness, but I quickly squashed it, crumpling the paper, and throwing it across the room, a guilt within me that I had just destroyed such a beautiful and heartfelt gift. I couldn’

The vampires would come again on the next full moon and any more war could mean the extinction of werewolves. They were only few left.Just two packs in a kingdom once filled with more than fifty of them.Her pack-the Blood Moon only had her,her sick father and the two soldiers that survived the last war-Avery and Axel. The second pack-the Storm Moon had less than twenty two members left. Nina stared through her window and didn't even move when her father came in.Not until he moved a chair towards her did she snap out of her thoughts. "Dad." she smiled weakly "You're here"

“Twenty thousand!” The hammer struck. “Sold!” Jayden bowed with a grin, collecting applause like oxygen. I couldn’t help but smile. This was the version of my brother that made sense: wild, talented, and unapologetically himself. Then came his final artwork. “This one,” he said, “is my heart.” It was a portrait, two wolves, one white and one black, their heads touching at the center. It was raw. Honest. And painfully beautiful. “Starting bid, thirty thousand!” the announcer called.

"It's settled, then. You will have our protection and a place to stay during your time in Black Creek." As their meeting finally came to an end, I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the walls adorned with drawings and paintings. The images depicted wolves in various forms, some in fierce battle stances, and others in moments of tranquility. But what struck me the most were the drawings that seemed eerily familiar. I walked closer to one of them, my heart quickening as I realized that the wolf in the drawing was striking a fighting stance that mirrored one I had often used. It was as if the artist had captured my movements with uncanny precision.

By Friday, I was a jagged edge of nerves. This was my debut as a solitary wolf, without the Alpha’s ring weighing down my hand. The work I had bled into over the last seven weeks—pure, unadulterated fury—screamed from the walls. The centerpiece, a chaotic sprawl of crimson and black titled The Final Howl, was splattered with actual droplets of my own blood. I had pricked my fingers until they were raw to get the shade right. It was primal, a stark departure from the polished, soulless portraits I’d painted to please the Graves family.

My eyes drifted to the walls. Drawings, no, portraits covered them. Red wolves in every form imaginable. Some were fierce, captured mid-snarl, teeth bared and eyes blazing with something wild and unyielding. Others were calmer, regal even, standing tall with an almost human dignity. A few were sketched in charcoal, rough but alive with motion. Others were painted in rich oils, every strand of fur detailed so carefully it almost seemed like they could step out of the canvas. There were battles depicted too. Wolves standing against shadows, against flames, against things I couldn’t quite make out but somehow understood were enemies. And in between them, quieter pieces, wolves resting beneath t

There was something so savage about the whole kiss, something that made her think of wild, dangerous creatures. Jamie closed her eyes, letting herself fall into the hunger of the kiss. Immediately an image slashed into her brain, a drawing from the ancient book she'd been reading. The sketch was of a wolf, magnificent in its thick black pelt. But the face of the wolf made her think of Miko Volta's face and the stunning impact jolted her out of the kiss. "My god!" Jamie pulled her mouth away but Mike still held her head in his grasp. "What?" His voice sounded almost like a growl.