Atlas Thorn Art

I'm Atlas, and welcome to my art!

Here you’ll find a growing collection of fantasy oil paintings featuring woodland critters, each with stories to tell. Thanks for stopping by! Feel free to browse the gallery, and check back soon.

Clover the Rabbit
With a satchel full of crumbs and a head full of songs, Clover set out just after lunch, when the sun was warm and the world looked especially friendly. He’d never been beyond the edge of the meadow, but that hardly seemed important. He was sure a knight simply needed to showing up with a smile and a tune. Tucked under one arm was the inherited instrument he’d strummed in the flowers for years, and he hoped its songs might earn him some glory, or at least a few friends. The road ahead was long and a little hilly, but Clover hummed as he tuned the strings, certain that somewhere, just over the next hill, his heroic song was about to start.

Bramble the Racoon
Deep in the Winter hush of the forest, Bramble moved like a shadow, her satchel clutched close. Inside, wrapped in barkcloth and sealed with a thorn, was something she had stolen - or rescued, depending on who you asked. She didn’t dare stop to check if she was being followed. The trees whispered above, the underbrush tugged at her cloak, but she pressed on, guided by desperation and the weight of what she carried.
Then, just as the wind stilled, she heard an icy twig snap behind her - too heavy for a squirrel, too soft for a rabbit. Without hesitation, she slipped her paw to her belt and drew her sword.

Fern the Otter
At the pools of the sacred falls, where mist clung to the stones like rain, Fern sat on the temple steps. The elder priests said that water taught patience, that its strength flowed through all things - even him. He spent his days in quiet meditation: weaving simple healing charms from petals and dew drops, while listening to the rhythm of the world through the rushing of the falls. But sometimes, when the mists below shifted, Fern would glance down the long stone steps leading away from the temple and wonder. When the time came to leave, to walk into the woods and help those in need, would his magic be enough? Would he be enough? For now, he only closed his eyes, breathed in the mist, and tried to believe that patience was his strength.


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