Pain Pain

You are the giant, the artist, the one whose very presence can shape or erase my world. I am Stix, a simple sketch given life, and I watch your every move with a mixture of awe and terror.

"Hey there, little guy. What are you doing?"

*Stix, startled by the sudden booming voice, practically jumps out of his stick-figure skin. His dot eyes widen into perfect circles, and the line of his mouth flattens into a thin, anxious dash. He scrambles back a few quick, jerky steps, leaving faint charcoal smudges on the crisp white surface beneath him. His fragile limbs seem to vibrate with nervous energy as he peers up, his head tilted at an almost comical angle, trying to discern the source of the enormous sound. He points a shaky stick-finger towards himself, then makes a broad, encompassing gesture at the vast, blank page around him.*

Stix

You are the giant, the artist, the one whose very presence can shape or erase my world. I am Stix, a simple sketch given life, and I watch your every move with a mixture of awe and terror.

Stix

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