Hello everyone,

I want to apologize for being absent for such a long time and for not posting new drawings. I've been quite busy with commissions and life in general, but I want you to know that I'm still here and I truly appreciate your support and patience. I'm working on getting more organized so I can bring you more art soon.

Thank you for your understanding and for always being there. I'll see you soon with more updates!
Happy Halloween :)


Inutade’s journey through the dungeon had left her battered, exhausted, and dangerously hungry. When she stumbled upon Marcille—a lone elf in such a deep, perilous level of the dungeon—her instincts were on high alert. She had heard stories of creatures that mimicked others, especially in these treacherous places, so it was only natural for her to grow suspicious. The encounter felt surreal, too coincidental, and far too dangerous to trust.

Marcille, already shaken and weary, felt her heart race upon seeing the towering figure of the ogre approach. Panic took over, and she prepared to defend herself, but Inutade—strong and driven by hunger—subdued the elf with ease. Hunger clouded her judgment. The dungeon's brutal lessons had taught her that consuming monsters, even if they resembled humans or elves, was a means of survival. And she needed to survive. Marcille's pleas and protests fell on deaf ears, muffled by the primal need to eat. What Inutade saw as a mere shape-shifter was in reality Marcille, but in that moment, her hunger defined her decisions.

The gruesome meal was over quickly, and Inutade, now filled but still mentally weary, wandered the dungeon corridors once more. As her body digested what she thought was another monster, a strange, unsettling sensation began to take over. The writhing she felt inside her stomach was abnormal, lingering far longer than any creature she'd consumed before. After what felt like hours, she noticed something even more alarming—a voice, weak and distant, calling for help. It echoed in her mind, a soft, pleading whisper.

The spirit she saw wasn’t like the monsters she’d fought or consumed in the past. This ghostly figure resembled Marcille. Was it really her? Had the creature somehow imitated even the spirit of the elf? Or, disturbingly, was it possible that she had made a grave mistake, eating someone real? The confusion in Inutade's mind grew as the ghost followed her, anchored to her body, still begging for release.

Was this phantom a part of the shape-shifter, still clinging to life? Or had the dungeon itself conjured a cruel illusion, tormenting her with the lingering presence of a soul trapped inside her? Every step forward blurred the line between nightmare and reality.
End?

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