Long from snout to tip of tail,
Whipweasel sleeks like the slickness of oil.
Slender in cunning he slips through the cracks,
turns on his charm and then he attacks.
Chicken, his favorite, but he’ll settle for child;
better beware, he’s out in the wild.
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3 comments:
don't want to cross paths with him!
thanks for your comment
ha ha, think i might know Whipweasel:) Great illustration, love your use of line.
Scary stuff! His name alone conjures up fear!:)
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