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Moving right along...

As time passes it becomes more and more clear that you arn't getting any better, all you've accomplished is digesting for two days and not exercizing leaving you feeling fat and tired, which you happen to look physically as well. "Look Roger, this isn't working, we can't stay sitting here forever, we need to find something or someone to break the spell. We need to get moving, and you havn't eaten anything since this started.

"But what about you, you'll just gorge yourself fat." Says Roger, giving you a worried look.

"Already there," you say, nodding to your pinned body which looks a bit like a cushion under Roger's hind quarters. "Becides, worse comes to worse, you can keep me from eating too much."

"Well, ok, but don't blame me if you end up having to carry your stomach in a wheelbarrel." he says, rasing himself off of you as you absentmindedly shove a handful of grass in your mouth. "Come on..(chew...chew) lets move!" you say, trying to keep your mouth full enough so that your hands can't shove more in.

You and Rodger quickly start walking, quickly winding up on a path through the woods. Rodger does his best to keep you going, picking you up as your body forces you to try devouring any and all greenery that comes within your reach. After some time...


Written by Spots

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