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An elfen hunter eyes her prey

To fill her gut past full that day.

But she can't see that danger darts

From Love, the hunter of our hearts.

At one time, the woods to the north of Feoil were deep and lush. Elves populated the city of Feoil, and they communed with the woods and its inhabitants.

In early spring, you could watch the sun float high overhead and cast its warmth down. The forest's leafy canopy filtered the sun into rays, lighting the earth below with intermittent glow like the sparkles off of a gemstone. Gentle breezes wandered through the treetops. Collectively, the wind-stroked leaves sounded like a calm ocean wave.

In the vernal glade, one turkey pecked at acorns. The bird's thick body sported healthy, tan plumage which ended in a wide, fanning tail.

At a fair distance, 20 meters or so, Diane hid behind the cover of shrubbery. She knelt on one knee, wearing lightweight, leather boots. White leggings hugged her curvy calves and chubby thighs. A leather belt clasped her green tunic to her bulbous potbelly and bowed waist. Her slender breasts barely moved as she took slow, careful breaths. Leather gloves covered her hands. One held up her bow, while her other drew an arrow from the quiver on her back. The hood of her tunic disguised her position while providing her a line of sight to her target. Her fair face squinted its chubby cheeks, with one eye looking down the path of her arrow.

She slowly tensed the nock of her arrow in the crook of her bowstring. With the turkey's hind in her sights, she let fly.

The sleek arrow cut through air like lightning. It struck the turkey dead on.

The felled turkey collapsed on the spot.

Diane stood and drew her hood back. Fresh air brushed her long, pointed ears. She shook her head to free her pale, blonde hair.

In the bush to Diane's side, Hippolyta jumped up and hollered. The dark-skinned human wore suede boots that hugged her bulging calves, and her dark, green trousers outlined the heavy curves of her thighs and hips. Its material outlined dimples and tiny folds in the sides of her legs. Her leather vest wrapped around her plump waist and exposed her thick arms. Hopping excitedly, her fulsome, rounded bust bounced. As she turned, she whipped her black, braided hair. She looked to Diane with deep, brown eyes. "Great shot!" Her arms engulfed Diane in an embrace. Hippolyta's hug squeezed her plush breasts against Diane's chest.

Hippolyta was Diane's best friend. Nay, she was Diane's only friend. She was from a village neighboring Altilisium, but she often visited Diane.

Caught in Hippolyta's tight grasp, Diane's heart thumped. Her pudgy belly bulged against Hippolyta's soft midsection. The sensation overwhelmed her a moment before she remembered her manners and returned the hug, bow still in hand. "Th-thanks..."

Hippolyta backed away. "Alright, let's go get that turkey!" She galloped ahead. As she ran, her curved hips pivoted, rocking each rump cheek in turn. Their doughy mass would rise, pulling a taut, spherical shape, and then fall, squishing wide.

Diane shook off her infatuation. She reached down to grab her backpack, then sprinted ahead. Even though Hippolyta had a head start, Diane overtook her with swift strides. Her running gait tossed her waist left and right, shaking her belly like a big bowl of pudding. At the same time, her upper legs kneaded her underbelly's tender softness. After speeding over twigs, leaves, and tree roots, she arrived at the bird's side. She dug her heels into dirt and halted. Once she shed her momentum, she knelt and held her hand to the turkey.

No movement. No breathing. The unmoving fowl had perished.

Hippolyta stopped nearby, kicking up dirt. "All good?"

Diane looked up to her. "Yes. It's a good hunt, too. We'll have more than our fill tonight."

Hippolyta's pants outlined the pudgy space between her legs, which was now in Diane's direct view, owing to her position. Additionally, the rogue's vest held her sweeping bust aloft above Diane. Unaware of Diane's wandering eyes, Hippolyta clapped. "Alright! What do you think of camping here?"

Diane slung her pack to the ground. "Seems suitable to me. I'll pitch the tent while you field dress dinner."

Hippolyta put a hand to her wide, soft thigh. From a belt on her upper leg, she withdrew a dagger. "Perfect!"

While Hippolyta defeathered the turkey, Diane cleared space for their tent and put it up. Next, Diane gathered tinder and built a fire. She took a large, iron pot from her pack and suspended it over the fire. In the meantime, Hippolyta gathered water, rosemary, and thyme. They worked in happy silence. Diane felt comfort in Hippolyta's presence, and they both enjoyed the rituals of hunting and camping.

Hippolyta poured a half-full bucket of water into the pot, along with spices. She set the turkey inside and put the lid on the pot.

In the following hours, the turkey cooked. Diane and Hippolyta sat side by side, watching the sun gradually descend. Sometimes, they listened to the chittering squirrels, singing birds, and other wildlife around them. Sometimes, they chatted. The two spent their time idly, with no goal other than to relax.

Over time, the sky grew pink, with indigo clouds speckled throughout.

Hippolyta grabbed the cloth potholders from Diane's pack and lifted the pot from the fire. She set it on the ground and removed its lid. Steam burst from the pot, bringing with it a wonderful aroma of seasoned broth and turkey. She licked her lips. "Mmm, smell that?"

The scent of rosemary, thyme, and turkey livened Diane's stomach, which issued a demanding rumble. "Yes, I can't wait!" She slipped a platter out of her pack, along with a bottle of mead and two cups. She poured two full cups: one for Hippolyta and one for herself. Then, she sat cross-legged. Her hemispherical gut overlooked her lap and rested on her upper thighs.

With a long fork and tongs, Hippolyta lifted the steaming turkey and placed it on the platter. Its glistening skin had been charred to a golden brown. Again, she pulled her dagger, drawing Diane's attention to her upper leg. Sitting with her legs folded under, her thighs splayed wide with pudge. "What piece do you want?"

"Thigh, please." Then, Diane realized, the turkey's thigh was presently behind its drumstick. "Erm, that is, the whole leg." She pulled her eyes away from Hippolyta's legs, meaty in their own right.

Hippolyta grasped the ankle of one of the turkey's legs. She angled the tip of her dagger directly at the joint where the leg met its body. A quick thrust popped the ball joint and severed the leg instantly. She offered it to Diane. "Here!"

Diane took the leg by its ankle. Its appetizing fragrance and its warm heft brought saliva to her mouth. Quickly, her teeth ripped off a hunk of moist thigh. She filled her mouth with delectable meat, chewed vigorously, and swallowed it down. "Scrumptious!" The warm morsel dropped into her large stomach, the first of many.

Hippolyta claimed a turkey leg for herself. Her juicy lips wrapped around leg meat, and she tore a piece. As she chewed, her cute, rounded chin bobbed, and her full lips danced delicately. "Mmm. Yeah, I like it a lot, too!"

Diane's appetite worked through the rest of the thigh, slowly filling her hungry middle with sweet, dark meat. She picked the bone clean before moving down to the leg's drumstick. This meat, while not as gamey, was no less flavorful. She bit through crispy skin and enjoyed thorough spices. Eating always brought her such peace, but the effect doubled with Hippolyta at her side.

Hippolyta ate, too. She worked through her own leg, paying Diane no mind. She was unaware of the elf's eyes as they lingered on her heavy curves and cute feeding. Between bites, she spoke. "I wonder how my mom's doing right now."

Having finished her leg, Diane sipped her mead. Its sweet taste flowed easily down her gullet. "Are you fond of her? You talk often of your father, but I can't recall that you have ever mentioned your mother." She quenched her thirst with a large gulp of her drink.

Hippolyta took a swift, lusty chug of mead. "Yeah. I mean, I talk about my dad so much because he pisses me off. But my mom's stuck back there with him." She threw back more mead. "She was always supportive of me. In that whole town, I think she's the only person I can stand." Without skipping a beat, Hippolyta severed a wing and passed it to Diane, then took one for herself. She opened her mouth and violently tore a piece of meat. Her eating was no longer sensuous to watch.

Meekly, Diane nibbled at her turkey wing. The warm meat comforted her as she ate on. She sensed Hippolyta's tension and wished to step carefully around it. "Can you tell me about your mother?"

Hippolyta opened her mouth wide. She ripped another ferocious bite and chewed sternly. She exhibited a titillating passion in her dining that compelled Diane to watch just as much as her more gentle behavior. Hippolyta watched the fire with a grin, chewing a moment. "My mom was a shrewd old lady. Everything I know about everything comes from her. She taught me how to season a turkey, and she taught me how to pickpocket from a duke, and she taught me everything inbetween." She brandished her dagger. "She was pretty slick with her cooking knives, too." She put her dagger back and returned to eating. Her animated bites crunched skin and squished meat.

Diane sucked meat from her turkey wing, cleaning the bones dry. Her appetite was sated, but that was just the beginning for her. The best was yet to come. Awaiting a turkey breast, she occupied her mouth with a few gulps of mead. The liquid filled her further while its intoxicating agent sparked her hunger. "Your mother taught you everything? That is quite an extraordinary claim, given the tales I have heard from you."

Hippolyta, currently drinking mead, sputtered. She leaned back and guffawed, jostling her bulbous breasts and shaking her plump stomach. "Okay, well... maybe EVERYTHING is an exaggeration. But I am where I am today because of her." She put her dagger to the turkey. With slow, sloppy sawing, she cut off a breast and gave it to Diane. Then, she took one for herself. "Anyway. You got anything that can help me forget my dad?" She bit deep into the turkey breast. She closed her eyes and chewed thoroughly, clearly focusing on the food.

Diane chomped into her turkey breast, too. The hunk of meat was bigger than anything previously, and it promised to stuff her. She happily swallowed, and her jutting stomach felt ever rounder. A pressure at her middle disturbed her, though. With one hand, she thumbed free her belt buckle, and it popped open. She breathed a sigh of relief as it filled as much volume as it needed. Her underbelly faintly weighed between her legs.

After that, Diane turned to the matter of her friend. "Arthur said to me yesterday that I might find a mate if I minded my girth."

Hippolyta chortled through a mouthful of turkey. "Windbag."

Diane swallowed another hunk of turkey, filling her belly more. She felt full, but not finished. "Quite. Well, I advised him that he might readily find a mate if he had any girth to mind, if you catch my meaning."

Hippolyta spit her mead with a deep belly laugh. "Did you actually say that?! You really have been getting brave."

Diane giggled. "I did, I did! By the spirits, I do cherish everything we share." Alcohol had inspired a swerve in her thoughts. She ate more meat, bloating herself with turkey as much as she could. The fullness of her stomach approached the fullness of her heart.

Hippolyta nodded. "Totally! I love these trips up to Feoil." She leaned back and grabbed the bottom of her vest. With a tug, she lifted it to her chest, and her stomach fell out, bare and bouncing. A thick roll spanned just above her hips, giving her waist a bell curve. Her belly bloated outward, firm and swollen. She rubbed her distended, gurgling middle, highlighting how round she had become from her meal. "My stomach does, too."

Diane finished the end of her turkey. Her stuffed, burbling stomach protruded. She stroked it, feeling its tender, taut girth.

Hippolyta looked at her, wordless. She ate with a precious smile, and the campfire lit her eyes in the darkening sunset. The glint of fire on her tight trousers drew out her warm, broad curves. Her slow, casual breath shifted her heavy bosom over her naked, bloated belly.

Diane went on. "It's more than that." She took Hippolyta's hand in her own. "I feel a closeness with you that escapes words." Her heart beat faster.

Hippolyta's smile opened wide. "I do too! You're like the sister I never had!"

Diane choked on the word "sister." A sudden, sharp pain stabbed her soul. She let go of Hippolyta's hand. "...Sister. Is that truly it?"

Hippolyta smiled back. "Yeah. I won't settle for anything less!"

Diane could not admit her disappointment to Hippolyta. In one part, she felt the loss of a romance that she was certain of. In another part, she felt guilty that she could not simply appreciate Hippolyta's friendly companionship. These thoughts were compounded by the prospect that Diane would be returning to her home, Feoil, the following day.

She forced a smile. "Sisters we are, then!"

She didn't have to go home, though. Perhaps it was time for a new start.