I sing of the berserkers, beloved of the skalds and songsmiths, the great warriors of Thor's domain, smashers of Jotunheim, doers of deeds, wearers of weaselskins! Fearless in fighting, ruthless in raids, fleet of foot and fat of form, the brave berserk, the war-hardened servants of the war-god, the great Battle Hamsters of the North!
Okay, okay, Beowulf it ain't. There's a reason I'm an artist and not an ancient skald in a Viking hall somewhere, and my fondness for indoor plumbing and appreciation of the miracles of modern dentristy are only part of it. Nevertheless, battle hamsters, in all their pudgy glory. My husband claims that the little mouse is about to become a damp splat, but I think he's more in what Terry Pratchett calls the "Ai, senor, the banditos have raided our veeellage!" position, and about to send the mighty Battle Hamsters off to smite his enemies. Well, either way, I suppose.
Watercolor, gouache, colored pencil, pen, 8 x 10. Original for sale, prints available, visit [link]
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