I used to draw as a way of recreating myself: When I was eleven, and wanted to wear chainmail and swing broadswords - more than merely saying "I have black hair and golden skin and rippling muscles" - I recorded it on paper. And I did it again and again, resolving and solidifying by increments the alter-ego who was storming around inside my skull. Of course, most of it is unsalvageable now, and looks really silly, but for some reason my characters - particularly these four - have stubbornly persisted in occupying a space in my head. They seem to want out, and this is the best thing that I can think to offer them.