My first amazing snow mouse

A very young, anthropomorphic, female mouse in a dress and an overcoat sits in the snow stacking (or potentially unstacking) snowballs.

The coat has an extra flap that drapes over her shoulders, but only goes to what would be her waist if she was human, allowing us to see that the dress’s skirt is made of a loose fabric terminated with embroidery. The collar of the coat is rounded and also sports a very slight embroidery.

The mouse herself has cute, rounded fingers and toes resembling those of a human child. Her mother has scrunched up the coat’s sleeves to avoid having them get muddied by the snow, revealing very hairy arms.

There are two small snowballs stacked on the ground, the top one smaller than the bottom one. The mouse holds a third one, even smaller, slightly deformed to resemble the head of a mouse. A shiny pebble has been embedded into it to mark where the snow mouse’s eyes should be. At the foot of the stacked snowballs is a small track leading up to it, showing that they had to be rolled into place.

About the character

This is my character [Susan] enjoying her first snowman… er… snow-mouse. Shortly afterwards, she pulled it apart and spread the snowballs across the ground, so this could equally well be representing her putting the snow-mouse’s head on, as it could be her taking it off. This was something her parents came up with to keep her busy while they talked about grown-up matters, so the fact that she thought of the possibility of taking it apart is an interesting testament to her budding creativity in the face of being ignored. I have no idea where it will take her yet, but I hope it’ll be somewhere good.

This is the same dress that appears in [Not now], unrelated to the dress appearing in [Squee]

About the drawing

I had been wanting to capture this beautiful moment for a month, but I had many other ideas I wanted to get out of the way first. I originally had no intention of shading it, but It came out so pretty, it seemed a pity to let the softness of the folds, the poofiness of her fur, and the roundness of the snowballs get lost to my laziness. Also, when I finished the linework on the bus, there were these two old ladies staring at me intricately, wondering what else I’d do to the drawing (not that was much else to stare at; we were stuck in a traffic jam for about an hour)
See also: [Guides]

The title is a play on the many children’s books that seek to make something mundane seem exciting by adding “My first amazing…” in front of them.

Pencils number 0 through 2 on recycled paper.

More Susan: [Never Let Go] [Tired Mother] [A mother's perspective]