Commission for :drfoolamour:

Rossem can't simply play with his prey. He has to be inventive. If you're lazy, you waste away. Rossem isn't lazy. When a white-furred vixen starts stomping around his woods, he lets his imagination run free... and it results in one of his greatest creations yet!

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A commission for Rossem-Klyn  starring his latexmancer elf, Rossem Klyn. A sequel to the other 'Old Wood' storylines. In this episode, he plays with Victoria - a white-furred vixen who's wandered into his domain.

Another fun commission! It really got away from me at times.

Previously...

The Old Wood - Part 3    Rossem didn’t like castles. He liked visiting them, but he wouldn’t want to live in one. Mortal men had a habit of building them for function first, and form second. The aesthetics ended up being ‘tacked-on’, trying too hard to appear imposing or elegant. What was worse was that the functionality resulted in a thoroughly uncomfortable place to actually live. Long hallways were chilly. Courtyards were noisome. They were flammable. The elfhome was a stand against these principles. He had built a series of connected wooden structures throughout the treetops, connected with long vines, short walkways, and branches he had grown himself. Though he hadn’t had any visitors in a few decades, he had tried to be hospitable to any possible interlopers - the rubbery membrane that supported the walkways was inert, and not the cloying, seeking magic that would quickly restrain and encase anyone he deemed to be an intruder.
    

The story continues...

The Old Wood Part 5 - Fantom
    Anyone who claimed to recognize the creature walking through the forest was a wizened sort. Seeing his face and putting it to a name required a certain level of obscure knowledge or eidetic memory that few possessed. It meant that the hypothetical scholar of history was both versed in ancient languages, cryptographic ciphers needed to decipher them, and a student of diverse mortal cultures.
    They would also have been completely, absolutely wrong.
    King Vystral had been gone for centuries. The elf’s browline and features were so sharp that his contemporaries joked his face could slice steel. Powder blue hair was slicked back in the fashion that had been, briefly, considered ‘regal’ by his contemporaries.
    And all of it, of course, was a forgery.
    The elf behind it wore this dusty king’s visage as a mask. Part of him knew that it was the sort of unusual look that was just un