The wolf was now panicking, why hadn't he listened to the others?....He wandered down to the sand bar by the river...It was wide due to the lack of rains in the summer. The sandy mud had felt cool on his paws, so much so he wandered to the far end, then suddenly he found himself waist deep in sandy mire...quicksand! The ground quivered as he struggled and strained, soon he was all but a head floating above the liquidy surface, only his right arm barely able to be freed from the vise like grip the muck had on him. The rest of him was slowly and surely being consumed now by the mire. Then he spotted it, a tree branch over head...If only he could reach it, he strained as the muck started to oooze over the left side of his face...he knew this would be the last thing he would do before the quicksand claimed him forever...A look of desperation on his face, the wolf strained with his right arm to reach...

A quicksand piece done in color pencil with some digital touch ups, mostly smearing the background to give some depth. Hope you enjoy. Yes I wrote the little short story too, on the fly! :)