《 sgt entry 》 Hello again! I honestly can't believe I've made it this far, since there were so many great entries. Congrats to everyone who made it here. As always, I've drawn a piece of art and written a short story related to it! The process for the artwork is included, use arrow keys to proceed and hit space to hide the variable. Story - The hardest part for Alaric Wilder was when he packed his bags. The trinkets from his friends when they had gone to the ocean or the mountains. The postcards his father had sent from his expeditions. There was an unsettling feeling of resentment and regret as he sat in his room with everything scattered across the floor. His mum didn't know he was leaving. Neither did anyone else, but he'd miss her most. She hadn't been the problem. All the other people in his life had tried to hold him back, to make him conform. Some people aren't meant to conform. Some people will never fit in. Alaric buried his face in his hands. He ran his thumb over his jagged harelip where it made a gap big enough to see his teeth. Would they accept him if he had a perfect face like everyone else? No. His appearance wasn't the real reason for his exclusion from everything. They hated what was on the inside too, and for a long time, he had hated it as well. But no tears burned his eyes now, he was done crying. There wasn't any part of him left for sadness. A life of rejection if he wouldn't hide his face and himself had dried his tears. Some people crumble when everyone tells them they're wrong, but others refuse to give in. If there was one thing he knew for certain, Alaric wasn't one to give in. He stood up suddenly and carefully crossed the room. At the door he pulled his cloak from its hook, strapped a knife to his belt, and grabbed his staff. This was all he would take. He didn't need any reminders of his old life of prejudice and anxiety. The amethyst on his staff glowed brighter at his touch and he closed his eyes, allowing calm to come to him. Outside the house, Alaric only looked back once. He continued down the dirt road out of town, ignoring the stares and whispers. A few women standing in a doorway called to him. "Alice! Where is your mask?" They asked, clamoring in high voices. Their perfect almond eyes were trained on his harelip. A shiver passed through Alaric at the use of his old name. The name his mother had chosen back before he learned who he was. The name everyone insisted was still his. This was why he had to leave. This was why he could never stay here. At the crossroads beneath the blooming cherry tree, Alaric looked to the horizon. The sun was just beginning to set and a light breeze blew pink petals through the air. He may not know where he was going, but there was no doubt in his mind it would be better than where he had come from. 《 credits 》 . art . me . code . me . story . me . audio . Dancing in the Dark by Imagine Dragons . characters . Alaric(Alice is his deadname), unnamed villagers please take a moment of silence in honor of Nex Benedict
