The end of the journey: a location used for a couple of different horror films, familiar to both Dudley and Cliff.
I always appreciate it when the artist makes the title of the issue a part of the landscape, as Pugh has done here. This bodes not well for Cliff, but we must leave him for now…
Her grandma’s trying to kill the bat that ate the dragonfly that Ellen identified as her father last issue.
Oh Maxine, surely you can tell it’s still alive? She has a special connection to the Lifeweb, you see…
So Buddy does have some control over his host’s actions, though from the sound of it, it’s a constant struggle.
Delano’s style veers just shy of being purple. It’s a great balance between evocative and functional.
Meanwhile, Ellen is busy getting drunk and falling asleep. You can hardly blame her, given everything that’s going on: her husband is dead, her son is missing, and her daughter thinks every animal is her daddy.
Buddy-as-cat enters through the open window, and it’s interesting that his inner monologue goes silent during this scene.
Why doesn’t Buddy try to communicate with Ellen here? Clearly he’s the one calling the shots in this moment.
It’s also curious that Buddy doesn’t recognize Winky, since the beast was there before he was killed.
Here Buddy takes the leap and lets his consciousness leave the cat without having to wait until its death. He’s gained more control over the process.
Buddy allows his consciousness to be subsumed by the triceratops and they both go into a reverie of remembrance.
Buddy/Winky lows from the barn, a mournful sound that Ellen misinterprets as sickness, but Maxine knows loneliness when she hears it.
Hopping from body to body, coming close to his loved ones, feeling the existential angst of futility, Buddy makes a decision.
And here’s more of Steve Pugh’s awesome texture work, as the triceratops wanders off to its own uncertain destiny.
Please join me on Wednesday for Animal Man #55!