Dasyurus maculatus

A swift leap from the log to the ground, small paws padding softly in silent ambush. The prize is near- and satisfaction of a meal lies just beyond the undergrowth. The last of the radiant golden beams of sunlight setting the forest aglow with a wash of orange and warmth disappear as the sun seeps below the mountains. Leaves rustle, and owls begin their daunting calls. Faster, faster. And a leap from through the bushes, claws outreached- and close on nothing. The spotted tail quoll pounces onto a hard, gravelly, asphalt road, and on the other side, a bushy orange, white tipped tail fades into the gathering darkness. I used charcoal to draw the quoll - colourless symbolising the sense of grief, despair, and sorrow. Spotted tail quolls are going to go extinct- these beautiful creatures deserve better. They are a beautiful creation, yet they suffer and die because of us- humans- and their havens- their homes- are knocked down- trapping them further- so we can build a road.