While I was doodling randomly today, I wound up with a wombat. And decided that, assuming the wombat hoarded Flavor Blasted goldfish, drank Earl Grey tea, divided her reading time between books on evolutionary biology and schlocky fantasy novels, and in general acted exactly like a female human artist, it was just barely possible that I did, in fact, have the soul of a wombat. But it'd have to be a pretty unusual wombat.
Soul of Wombat
