"Gypsy Girl" by Gregory P. Gibbons

Oh my god this is amazing. She reminds me of my best friend. Her family were gypsies Nice one! Keep drawing gypsies!

When I usually think "gypsy" I think of dark skin and dark hair, but you did a very good job giving her gypsy-ness even though she is blond. Wonderful work!

Well, she isn't a real gypsy, is she? She was found by the gypsys many years ago. Her mother had just given birth and died by the side of the road. The gypsys don't know who she was, but took th child in anyway. She knows she is different from them, in looks at least, but her heart is pure gypsy. In a few years time, they will be in a town, and she will dance, as they do to earn some coins. A young man will fall in love with her, and want to marry her. She refuses, of course, as she loves the road and the gypsy life more than she could ever love any man. When the gypsys go to leave, however, they cannot find her, and they think she has changed her mind and agreed to marry the man. In fact, he kidnaps her, and keeps her locked in his basement for the next few years. She pines away, and is almost dead when he realises how much he has hurt her. He lets her go, but her spirit is already broken, and she cannot leave. When the gypsys return a few years later, they do not even recognise her. In truth, she barely recognises herself.

*sigh*

Well, now that you've challenged me for a story, here it is:
She's not really a gypsy, at least by blood. (Going a bit with the last commentors idea). As an infant she was found by a band of gypsies in a ruined, burnt-out village, the sole survivor of some attack. As she grows older, her heart truly becomes one with the gypsy credo. However, strange things happen when she's around. She has unnaturally superb hearing and eyesight, and at times she seems to be able to move faster than anyone the gypsies have seen. But that's only the least of it. When she gets angry, things happen -- furniture will be knocked over, small items fly through the air. While travelling she is attacked by three men in a village who try to sexually assault her. All three men mysteriously die in the midst of the assualt. Several nights later, a group of shadowy figures sneak into the gypsy camp looking for the girl. She hears them (despite not even the dogs having noticed them) and a strange instinct kicks in, whereby she single-handedly kills the intruders with surprising skill and brutality. Distraut by the blood on her hands, she turns to the old wise woman of the caravan. The wise woman shows the girl the strange birthmark between her shoulders and tells her the truth about what the girl really is: She is of the Shagath Ein, a deadly sub-race of psionic assassins. They do not take kindly to their people being out and about in the world, and they will hunt the girl down until she becomes one of them -- or is dead. Anyway, thanks now for breaking my writer's block! I'll have to go write that story now.
ps. GREAT PICTURE!

-sniff-

A drawing contest? And I wasn't there? Wah.

I like the energy in the lines. Was she drawn in ink? She looks more "decisive" than your usual draw-off style.

Her name is Shaenan. Shaenan has just turned 35, a dangerous age for an unwed Gypsy of the Glynli clan. She was first married at the age of fifteen to Phenkist, a failed relationship that resulted in no children and bitter partings. Phenkist was well known as a brute and an adulterer. He died from the clap only three years after the arranged wedding of the unloving pair, only two years of which he spent any time in her bed. Ever since, Shaenan has been viewed as a bad omen and men who pass her by have averted their eyes and muttered a prayer of protection from any and all manner of curses. All of Shaenan's memories of of men are unhappy ones, so she quickly took a liking to being shunned by the male folk and became accustomed to taking all the comfort she needed from women. But today she has turned 35, and Glynli law decrees that a woman, unwed at the age of 35, shall die the day after her birthday - an offering of sacrifice to the Great Mother for the clan's future protection and fertility. So today, she dances the Menthala, the dance of enticement, for the bachelors of the clan sitting around the evening fire. This is her last chance to out-shine 10 years of shame on her name . . . and she wonders if it is worth it. Perhaps, for a woman in her world, 't'would be better to be dead. T'would be far easier, that's for certain.

Just kidding....i didn't read those stories yet, but now I have, wow , three stories instead of one! Aren't I lucky?

this is definitely my favorite piece of your's. I don't know why, it just is...simply wonderful, but I'm disappointed at no story, I think your descriptions are simply fascinating.

Live for the rhythm of the music.

Wow, this is awesome!! I think something is off about her raised arm though.