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Lysander twirled his wand between his fingers as he paced before the spirit. His gait, as always, accentuated the sway of his wide hips. The deer was speaking, but the ethereal wolf he was speaking to, or rather... at... was far more focused on each little jiggle of cervine posterior within the far too tight trousers.

The ghost, a deceased nobleman by the name of Channing, licked over his lips slowly, snapping back to appearing disinterested as the deer pivoted to pace the other way. As always, he wore a cravat and coat, though he usually hid the hole where the dueling shot cut through him with a lapel. His feet also hardly touched the ground, boots comfortably gliding just above the floor.

The faint sound of music and chatter drifted from the far side of the hardwood beneath the curvy cervine's hooves.

At the end of his next hip-rocking stride, the deer spun on a hoof to face the glowing wolf. He tapped the tip of his wand on his opposite palm. "That's about it. Do you have any questions about the test? I don't have all night for this, I do have to return to the Halloween party at some point..."

Channing stood upright at attention, though behind him his wispy tail flagged back and forth. "I can do anything I wish to resist your spell, correct?"

Lysander pursed his lips, rubbing along the tip of the wand with the heel of his palm, before nodding. "Yes. After all, this is a test of the spell's effectiveness!"

"No further questions. You may fire when ready." The wolf smiled, teeth glistening winningly. "Just, do try not to hit the spot." He winked, tapping his lapel.

Nodding again, the curvy stag took a wide stance. He incanted in Gaelic, gesturing away from his body with his wand before bringing it forward in a circular curve around and a diagonal slash across the form of the ghost in his vision. The ethereal glow around Channing changed, the pale green turning more pure white. Starting from his boots, the wolf's legs grew hazier and hazier. Finally, the shape below his waist came back into focus, an amorphous wisp that came to a point about how high above the ground he normally floated.

Lysander lowered his wand towards that tip and then raised his wand to his lips, opening his mouth as if he was sucking in air.

Channing's eyes widened as abruptly his new lower half was yanked out from under him, the lowest point of the wisp being sucked right into the deer's pursed lips. He twisted in midair, clawing at an invisible surface as though he was being dragged along a floor or table by his legs. His glowing form compressed to fit through the deer's jaws, deforming easily, even after reaching his upper body, where his ethereal form was still somewhat true to his form at the time of his demise.

The buck trembled as he slurped up a pair of clawing ghostly hands, cheeks bulged out and glowing. Lysander sealed his lips and then swallowed firmly. It was a strange sensation, not unlike certain non-newtonian things the promiscuous deer had swallowed in the past, but without any of the wetness. His throat distended with a glowing lump that travelled into his chest and behind his shirt. With his off-hand he felt over his still trim belly, smiling. "Look at that, no calories!"

Abruptly, from under the flesh, there was a loud slurping sound.

Lysander blinked and looked down towards his stomach curiously. Then his eyes widened in recognition. As an echoing gulp filled the space his expression went totally blank, head tilting back with a tremble.

Phasing through the deer's shirt, Channing's head emerged, glowing white still. He licked his lips with a contented sigh. He reached his arms out of Lysander's body and braced himself against the wide pelvis to help pull his torso free. The cause of his trouble was apparent as soon as his belly pulled out. Shirt and jacket spread open, his gut was distended. What was distending it was also painfully apparent to the observer.

The deer's glowing spirit struggled, pushing and striking at seemingly limitlessly elastic ectoplasm. Lysander's soul shone green from within the transparent belly of the wolf, continuing to wriggle and kick even as the noble spirit freed himself the rest of the way.

"Oh, you are a delectable soul, my dear deer." Channing floated free, his lower half still a wisp for the time being.

Echoing much the same way that the wolf's voice did, Lysander responded. "This wasn't how things were supposed to go!" He brought both of his ethereal hooves together and kicked firmly outward.

Tongue lolling out to one side, the wolf grasped onto that stretching bulge and shoved it back down, mooshing his hands into his smooth white belly. "You said I could do anything to resist." He drew out the operative word, then repeated it while clenching his spiritual stomach down on the flustered deer spirit. "Anything~"

Shifting around, the stag had noticed just how close they were floating to his wand hand. Lysander's body was still standing upright, arms loose at his sides and expression blank. He continued to breathe, showing he was still truly alive, thankfully. All he needed to do was get back into his body... He pushed his hand out, feeling the elastic ectoplasm stretch and deform around his blunt, hoof-like fingertips as he strained to try and grab for his wand.

Channing perked as he realized just what his impromptu meal was up to and teasingly drifted further away and around to the deer's ample rear. "Oh, no you don't... I just think I'll let you stew in there for a good, long time." Staring at Lysander's physical rump prompted him to reach down and grope at the spiritual counterpart where it stretched the side of his stomach. "Motivation for you to fix up your little spell to do better, I say~"

Lysander huffed and squirmed as he was groped... well, at the very least he'd figured out how to make the randy wolf tangible... might be useful in the future.