“Heigh ho, Moab, away!” Here’s to posting the last three pages all in a row. Did I know, absolutely know, when I started writing this story that this line was going to appear prominently in the finished piece, as the cowboy rides out of the narrative on his moa? Oh, yeah. I know it is corny. I am not afraid to be corny. I embrace my corniness and feel that the world needs more stories that are … sincere, for want of a better word. And yes, I am a cynic in my real life, and snarky to a fault. “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself.” That’s Walt Whitman and Walt Whitman was cool.
Artistically, we have lots of Moab, a pretty good Jack in profile, and especially the five small figures in the lower tier. I have a long and complicated relationship with simplification and drawing very small (the original of this five figure panel is 6 1/2 inches long and maybe three inches high), and when what I call “little figures” go right I think they come closer to realizing my inner landscape then some of my larger, more elaborate, more “correct” drawings. The Moondog image, especially, really captures the Professor at about 95% wolf. The difference from a pure wolf is in the shape of the paws, which are slightly fingerlike here.
A better writer than I am would be able to devise a sound effect for a large, heavy, bipedal bird running at full speed carrying a rider. It would be something like “shunk, shunk, shunk”, with some kind of rustling grass sound on top of it.