The crow flew round the historic town of Warwick, he woke up on his perch on the tree of knowledge located down a small country bridleway. The tree had grown old and warped, it was peaceful though and the crow liked the solitude. The crow launched himself to fly south and was soon in the hovering over the historic town centre, watching the people go about their daily routine. Randolph Turpin stood statuesque and proud in the square, alert as if defending himself from his winged opponent. The crow landed briefly over and old row of victorian houses just north of the river, pitter pattering as his feet clawed over the roof. From here it was only a short hop from his daytime territory by Warwick Castle.

A new set of ATC’s, pen and watercolour on 300gsm watercolour paper.

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