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羽桑

KI-Kunst „羽桑“ von 鴞雪 auf PixAI. Erstellt mit Tsubaki.3 Flash.

一隻休閒的狐娘，在公園看著小說打發時間

Wettbewerbseinreichung

PixAI × zeta Original Character Creation Contest 2026 #zetaCollab

#Tierohren #Tierohr-Flaum

Veröffentlicht: Oct 27, 2026

鴞雪

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1girl, solo, fox girl, fox ears, fluffy golden fox ears, golden fox tail, long hair, blonde hair, pink hair streaks, pink highlights in hair, hair past waist, dark green-framed glasses, gentle eyes, calm expression, soft smile, closed mouth, looking down at book, plain white t-shirt, short sleeves, blue denim jeans, one leg crossed over other, crossed legs, sitting on wooden park bench, reading, holding paperback book in one hand, book held open, relaxed posture, leaning back against bench, head slightly lowered, medium shot, eye level, dappled sunlight, golden hour, late afternoon, warm golden light, lush green park trees, bokeh background, walking path background, soft painterly shading, warm nostalgic palette, cozy, peaceful, A medium shot at eye level, low and unhurried, holds the girl centered on a slatted wooden park bench that runs horizontally across the lower third of the frame. She sits well back against the bench's backrest, spine resting on the wood, right hip taking her weight and her right shoulderblade pressed to the top slat; her left ankle is crossed over her right knee so the blue denim of her left calf rides up over the jeans of the right thigh, and her left foot hangs free, sneaker toe pointed loosely at the ground. Her right arm is bent at the elbow, forearm braced near her hip, and that single right hand holds the paperback open — the spine cradled in her palm, the pages splayed into a shallow V, the thumb of her right hand pressed flat along the inner margin of the left page, fingers spread under the cover. Her long golden blonde hair falls forward on both sides of her lowered face and pools on the front of her plain white T-shirt, the subtle pink highlight streaks threading the blonde in fine ribbons that catch the light in the strands crossing her collarbone; the hair tumbles past her waist and drapes over the bench slat behind her right arm. Her fluffy golden fox ears sit high on the crown, both turned slightly forward toward the book, the left ear's inner fuzz warm with backlight, and her golden fox tail slips out to the right of her hip, its relaxed curve resting on the bench seat, the tip drooping toward the wood. A white short-sleeved T-shirt hangs plain and unwrinkled across her chest and shoulders; the blue denim jeans are visibly worn at the knee of the crossed leg, the cuff wrinkling where it folds down over her ankle. The dark green-framed glasses sit level on her nose, and behind the lenses her eyes are calm and gentle, half lowered toward the open page under soft lids, the two fine lines between her brows relaxed, the corners of her mouth lifted in a soft closed-lip smile that shows neither teeth nor effort; her chin is dipped perhaps ten or fifteen degrees so her lowered gaze meets the printed page, not the camera. Late-afternoon golden sunlight enters from behind and to the left of her, low and warm, striking the top slats of the bench, the crown of her head and the top plane of her ears and glowing through the thin edges of the loose hair on that side; the foliage of the lush green park trees breaks that light into a dapple pattern of small bright ovals across the bench seat, her left thigh and the open page, those patches warmer where they meet white cotton than where they graze the denim. The front of her face, her forearms and the underside of the book sit in a softer amber bounce, and the shadow of the bench falls beneath it dark and clean-edged on the grass. Behind her, in a shallow depth of field, the walking path recedes left to right between trunks and dense green masses, resolving into round out-of-focus orbs of sun through leaves that grow larger and looser the further back they sit; a single tiny figure of a walker, blurred beyond recognition, drifts along that path far behind her right shoulder. Palette stays warm and nostalgic: honey gold in the light and the blonde, sage and deep moss green in the foliage, worn azure denim, off-white cotton, and the dark green of the frames echoing the leaves. One quiet physical detail: the sunlit half of the open page is visibly brighter and yellower than the shaded half, and the shadow of her own hand lies across the paper, twice as soft as the crisp shadow of her fingers lying on the bench slat. The world here is still and generous — cozy, quietly nostalgic.

羽桑

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