The incessant wind keeps blowing through the undergrowth. Forever in motion, forever living, forever dying, the forest gusts keep sweeping the eternal thornes..
Pollen, leaves, and smells of decay travel with it. A millenia old sentience crawls at it’s heels. Surveying, keeping track, guiding it’s motion.
Once a servant of the old gods, the creature no longer has a name.
But it knows a reconciliation is coming.
Because after an eternity, the wind has turned cold.
Some miniatures just make themselves and you’re assigned to watch.
The forest stalker wasn’t a definite plan, but a feeling kicked off by the centipede body of Cawl. I wanted to capture the vitality of forest about to freeze for winter, and the unstoppable power of slow growth. And a being so entwined with it’s surroundings, you don’t know where it’s borders are even though it’s in motion.
How would a ten thousand years old techpriest adapt?
Cut off from the Imperium of Man by dynamic warp-storms, how can a servant of Mars survive the endless onslaught of Crataegus? And how far from mankind will you drift when curiosity isn’t limited by agenda..
I’ve included a daylight shot to show how ethereal the greens are, almost grey under cold light, but bursting with life under the warmth of a lamp. And the conscious and subconscious infuence of Voodoo Forest of course!