Aitch

I absolute adore the picture you've drawn of Holly at the beginning of their casual pleasures in walking over their new city and ants of playmates en masse, a very specific genre of macrofurry work that I've seen done well before but you're probably the only artist I know of who does it as well as you, by physical definition, the subject macrofur's body expression and pose and foreshortening as needed, and so well it's not just a novelty in your work but something you specialize in, and not infrequently put to draughting, Perry-fren.

The sense that their gorgeous, gigantic foot is literally moments from casually squashing and crushing half the downtown of the city they've already moistly and smotheringly walked partway over upon in that first scene the city as much an insect as its tiny residents, that the shadow of Holly's colossal tread is shaped exactly like the titanic plantigrade foot that's bare, beautiful and seconds away from meeting what's beneath its footsole...I mean, I could say you've done it, but I must say instead you've done it again, perfectly, if not better.

I think the first drawing of its kind I saw of yours, Perry, was also of Holly if I'm not mistaken, and I know if it wasn't it was another titan rabbit, or rather their foot, per the description I recall you writing for and adding to it. Not quite as big as Holly is here presently, a foot that's on the order of a city block long, toned gently in pinkish-purple for the monochrome...but even at that size, there's nothing living or manufactured that could stop such a mighty juggernaut from going and moving wherever they'd like, nor stop or slow down even a single one of their steps.

Well, except their own choice to stop. And most macrofurs, however much they like crushing the works of microfurs and their cities beneath them and stepping on their smaller neighbours- even macrofurs who may be tiny ants before them, not unlike your accustomed megacat and megarabbit sizes and pleasures, Hadjet or Holly- that also means they understand their audience. And no dancer will make do with not dancing for others, with their impactful, graceful steps.

THOOM. It's the only word we need know, and is our only warning- perhaps a half dozen peals of footsole steps at most, depending on the size and casual speed of our welcome guest- and the odds are it's the last thing we'll ever hear once it's loud enough to sound like soft-fleshed, immensely heavy footsteps.

-2Paw.