It's The Thought That Camps

It's The Thought That Camps

• Model:

• Size: 1152 X 896 (1.03 MP)

• Used settings:

  • Prompt: It stood outside the glass-roofed cockpit where Peternip was sitting, pressed its nose against the glass and stared in at Peternip with small bright black unblinking lidless eyes. It was speaking. It was saying something. Its words were drowned in the noise of the engine, but Peternip could see the small thick-lipped mouth moving as it spoke. He could see clearly the round leathery face, so like a human's yet so very different, so weird and frightening with a death- less, ageless expression in the small black lidless eyes, with a fierce cunning twist about the small thick-lipped mouth. The whole head was about the size of a large plum and bald as a plum, with the two slightly yellow, slightly curved horns B18 SOMETIME 'NEVERS O MET I ME NEVER sticking up on top. Peternip could see where the two horns joined the pink skin of the bald head with the skin growing upward a little about the base of the horns. And then there was this astonishing green bowler-hat which in some curious way was infinitely more frightening than either the horns or the face.
  • Using base image: No
  • Aspect Ratio: landscape