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Description
I know I should say it more often to you than I say already, but its hard to accomplish when on is governed by their wisdom and lacking a heart...

But you lack one as well, and yet still manage to say those few words that matter the most to me, such a queer match that we happen to be.

I still remain silent, with this silly look of wonder upon my face, but you just smile, the riotous color upon your cheeks rising along with the sparkle I always desire to see within your silver eyes.

My sharp wits tell me to say what I've always wanted to say since the first moment I saw you, but I'm rendered dumb and mute as you lay your head against my shoulder with a soft crinkle of my straw the only sound I can actually hear, and you telling me to be quiet as the music you only seem to hear continues to lead us in this strange dance.

You know what I want to say, and perhaps you've already heard it though I have said nothing...

But it still remains... spoken or not... for now it is whimsy to say it in this moment... I don't know what I would do without you, you curious creature, my beautiful Scraps.

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Been working on this for a few days, went back to the old style of drawing it out on paper, retracing with the wacom and doing the fun task of coloring. Rather happy with the end result, though if I hear another person say "Awww" to it, it'll be too soon

Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl, or Scraps, both from OZ and the wonderful writings of L. Frank Baum.

Description
I know I should say it more often to you than I say already, but its hard to accomplish when on is governed by their wisdom and lacking a heart...

But you lack one as well, and yet still manage to say those few words that matter the most to me, such a queer match that we happen to be.

I still remain silent, with this silly look of wonder upon my face, but you just smile, the riotous color upon your cheeks rising along with the sparkle I always desire to see within your silver eyes.

My sharp wits tell me to say what I've always wanted to say since the first moment I saw you, but I'm rendered dumb and mute as you lay your head against my shoulder with a soft crinkle of my straw the only sound I can actually hear, and you telling me to be quiet as the music you only seem to hear continues to lead us in this strange dance.

You know what I want to say, and perhaps you've already heard it though I have said nothing...

But it still remains... spoken or not... for now it is whimsy to say it in this moment... I don't know what I would do without you, you curious creature, my beautiful Scraps.

```````

Been working on this for a few days, went back to the old style of drawing it out on paper, retracing with the wacom and doing the fun task of coloring. Rather happy with the end result, though if I hear another person say "Awww" to it, it'll be too soon

Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl, or Scraps, both from OZ and the wonderful writings of L. Frank Baum.