“Do…do you think…she’d be proud of me? Do you think she can see me still?”
“…I don’t think she is, Trixie…I KNOW she is…and she always will be…”
Was listening to this while I sketched it.
Another section of the story I have behind Trixie and Pickles. This is where she finally makes it back to her home town to visit her mother’s grave. Sadly the grave itself hasn’t been kept well, but the name is still fully visible, especially to Trixie.