A rolling stone.

This is it. This is the exact spot. In your memory, all the nearby landmarks burn clearly. The wishing well should be right here, but instead, there is a conspicuous moss-covered boulder.

"That doesn't look like a well."

"It should be right here."

"Hmmmm." Drake approaches the boulder, then pokes around all sides of it with his snout.

"There's some source of water underneath here. I can smell it. And look at all the ferns and moss."

"Can we push it aside?"

"We can try."

You put your sides against the rock and push. Your pushing doesn't really do much. The boulder just sinks into your fat. And Drake is not strong enough to move it on his own.

"Why don't you try pushing on me?" You suggest. "If I can just get my actual muscles and ribs against the boulder, I might have more pushing power.

Drake complies, nearly burying himself in your flesh as you both strain yourselves to your limits. But eventually, against the cushion of your belly, the rocks budges. And it budges a lot. It seems it was stuck in a depression of sorts, and, once free, is perfectly happy to roll off down the hill.

Of course, this causes you to pitch into the hole it was covering.

At first you fear you might fall all the way through, but your expansive flank and belly wedge in tight. Unfortunately, fat is quite malleable, and you find yourself slowly rolling down the walls of the tunnel, sinking into your own blubber.

"Drake, Drake help me!"

In a panicked state, Drake looks around for something for you to grab onto. Meanwhile, your wings and arms disappear into your torso.

"Drake, I'm going to suffocate!"

Out of options, he runs over to you, and grabs onto your horns. Your weight is more than he can bear, however, and your neck is likewise engulfed. Followed by your throat.

"Hold your breath!" Drake groans. You do as commanded, taking as deep a breath as you can, just before your flab folds over your mouth and nose.

Written by flabbingup

Holding your breath.

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