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Hopefully this makes up for my long absence!
A very fun rp collab I did with the talented psychicimmortality where my very grumpy drake Grief suddenly finds himself with a small problem. He turns to Aaron for help in exchange for a service, but little does he realize the big changes this will cause him.
I'm not sure if this counts as anything for macro march, but Grief does get pretty damn tall in the end, as well as extremely wide. I'm also not sure if cat-sized dragons count as micros or not, but, well, here we are :p
I hope you all enjoy~
Edit: whoops, looks like the discription cut out. You can download the file here too: https://docs.google.com/document/d/.....it?usp=sharing
Grief was free high in the skies. Unbound, unchained, the great dragon was lord in his own domain. The very clouds bent to the will of his powerful leathery wings, swirling around the draconic being as he soared through the air. The tree tops swayed and brustled beneath the beat of his mighty flaps, rustling the leaves. High in the sky, Grief was massive, enormous, a true spectacle worthy of his draconic lineage.
It was just a shame that was a farce once he approached the ground.
Lowering himself beneath the trees, the dragon felt a pang of anxiety as the very same tree tops started to loom above him. This feeling was exasperated the lower he glided. Trees, rocks, even bushes started rising above him, the self-proclaimed lord now looking like a humble peasant in his own woods. Finally, with a careful flap of his wings, the drake settled onto the grass, frowning as he felt the green blades rise above his claws.
In the sky, Grief felt enormous and imposing.
But back in grounded reality, the dragon was the size of a house cat.
The dragon carefully strode forward, his fluffy tail and scaly back heightened with anticipation. He was easy pickings on the ground, the drake needing a bit of a startup before he could take off flying. He felt impeccably small, a literal snack for any predator who happened to spot the pint-sized drake meandering on his own. The dreaded feeling only grew worse as the blond dragon carefully approached the hole in the rockside. To anyone else, it was simply a large cave, with an entrance big enough to fit a fully grown, normal-sized dragon. To Grief, it was an impeccably large maw ready to swallow him up.
Grief scowled. He shouldn’t have to feel so fearful and submissive of anyone, let alone a simple cave. He was a dragon, the mightest form of life to have ever walked the Earth! With indignation pushing out his trepidation, the small drake marched forward, letting the darkness engulf him.
The drake stepped forward through the shadows for what felt like several minutes, though in reality it was less than one before he saw the glow of light ahead, where the tunnel opened into a wide chamber. Inside, the drake found a bit of an odd sight; it was like someone had combined the aspects of an anthro's home and a feral's den, with standing lamps and hanging lights illuminating the interior, revealing walls made of packed earth or clay. A plush carpet covered most of the den's floor, giving way to wooden floorboards in a section of the chamber that looked like a kitchen, including a refrigerator and stove on either side of a wall-mounted sink. On the opposite side was what appeared to be a mix of a bedroom and living room, with a wooden, ovoid frame that held a myriad of cushions of various sizes, the nest sitting across from a wall-mounted television, a boxy device situated on an entertainment center beneath the screen. The whole home was contained in a singular room, with round walls that arched up into a domed ceiling above, and for the moment, it seemed like no one was home.
It was a very unusual den, at least from Grief’s perspective. Granted, his perspective was a little, shall we say, skewed at the moment, but it was still strange seeing so much modern technology situated in a cave in the middle of nowhere. The carpet felt strange on the feral drake’s claws, who took a moment to knead into the plush fabric to better get acquainted with it. Forgetting why he was there for a moment, Grief carefully padded around, sniffing and familiarizing himself with many of the strange objects situated in the cave. His keen scent told him that whoever lived here hadn’t been gone for long, but there was no way of telling when they would return.
Being the somewhat paranoid dragon that he was, Grief figured his best bet would be to wait at the highest perch he could find: that being the fridge. With a running start, the dragon quickly flapped his way onto the big box, finding it rather difficult for his claws to get a grip on the metallic structure, before finally pulling himself up. There, he gently lowered himself into a more prone position, wrapping his fluffy grey tail around his legs. He could easily see the entire room from his height; all he had to do was wait.
It took a while for the dragon's waiting to pay off, but after a little over half an hour, a new sound joined in the gentle hum of the refrigerator beneath the dragon, the falls of heavy paws padding over earthy ground resonating down the den's entryway, growing in volume as the owner of those paws drew near. As Grief watched the entrance, a large, canine head emerged into the light, revealing quite the odd creature.
Though lupine in shape, the being was much larger than a normal wolf, big enough that he just might have stood an inch or two taller than a work horse. Dark, mossy-green fur coated the critter's back and flanks, with creamy-white fur on his underside, pale belly swaying level with his knees as he strode into den, carrying a wicker basket by its handle in his muzzle. A long, powerful tail slithered behind the oversized wolf, taking several more moments to slip into the chamber after the creature's body, reminding Grief of a fluffy anaconda that ended in a fluffy tuft like a lion's, the same pale color as the creature's ventral side. Two lines of the same creamy color extended back from the strangely-serpentine wolf's eyes, meeting at the base of his neck and joining as one stripe running down the animal's long spine.
Amber eyes glittering with evident self-satisfaction, the critter stepped toward the back of the den, to a blank, empty portion of the dirt wall. Or at least, it had been empty, until the creature neared, and in the center of the wall, between two of the standing lamps, a subtle, pale-blue symbol faded into being. Pausing in front of the sigil, the lupine serpent leaned forward and touched his nose against the glowing mark, and as Grief watched, the wall melted away, revealing shelves of books, scrolls, crystals, and strange devices with floating orbs revolving around them or strangely-fluid auras about them. Smiling to himself, the critter took a seat on his pudgy rump, holding the basked in his forepaws as he nosed the lid open, tail coming around to start sorting new crystals out from the container.
Grief let out a quiet gasp as the magically-sealed wall opened up, revealing the strange artifacts. The dragon was expecting someone quite large to come through the doorway when he heard those loud footsteps earlier; turns out, this someone was large in other ways, as evident by that hanging paunch. For a moment, Grief was starting to believe he had the wrong location; there was no way this doughy dog was a powerful mage!
However, the shining crystals and orbs said otherwise.
The dragon’s understanding of technology was archaic at best, but even he could notice the difference between what was anthro science and what was magic. Sitting upright, Grief cleared his throat. He ran a few simulations in his mind and planned out his escape several times over, just in case this feral was, well, feral. Granted, he could surely outrun the tubby lupine even at his diminutive size. “Aaron, I’ve come to bargain!” He exclaimed, still perched on top of the large reliable fridge.
The snolf let out a yelp of surprise, fumbling with the basket in his paws after his startled jump, before clutching the crystal-filled container to his chest as he turned his head to look over his shoulder, pudgy folds forming along his neck. It took Aaron a moment of glancing around, before his eyes landed on the dragon sat perched on his fridge, the wizard blinking in surprise for a second or two, before a grin spread over his muzzle. "Aww, hey there, lil' guy! I'll be right with you," the lykophis said, taking a moment to settle the crystals he'd removed from his basket back in among the others, setting the collection down on a shelf before getting to his paws. As Aaron padded toward the fridge, the shelves behind him obscured as the clay wall seemed to melt back into being while the snolf padded forward, only to pause when he noted the dragon seeming to tense at his approach.
Smiling as reassuringly as he could, the serpent took a seat in the middle of the den, allowing Grief a respectful amount of space between them. "Now, what can I do for you?" Aaron asked, long tail coiling around himself, the fluffy tip swaying back and forth at a relaxed pace.
“Lil’ guy?” Grief mimicked, growling at the over-familiar tone the snolf took with him. He was a mountain dragon, the mightest of his race, and he stood as tall as he could to show it. His pitch black scales glistened in the lamplight, accentuated by a spiral of sapphire blue that ran along his thick and powerful limbs. His furry grey tail, while not nearly as long as the snolf’s, could still wrap around his body easily. Currently, he used it to hide his equally soft and fluffy midsection, which, while being slightly rounder than was typical for his species, did an excellent job of keeping him warm.
He continued to glare at the snolf, narrowing his emerald eyes. “I have...come for your services, overfed mutt,” Grief growled, no longer finding it appropriate to call Aaron by his face name after being referred to as “lil’ guy' ' just then. “An impudent sorcerer was running amok in my forest, making a racket and disturbing me from my slumber, among other vile crimes. When I confronted him, he pointed his horrid staff at me and...defeated me. My once grand frame, taller than even the trees surrounding your vista, now reduced to the size of a pumpkin.”
While being the serious drake that he was, Grief was known to exaggerate once or twice. The “impudent” sorcerer was simply testing his spells where he thought he wouldn’t disturb anyone, and the shrinking spell was simply a mistake. In fact, it was the sorcerer himself who had offered the dragon to ask Aaron for advice on fixing the matter, but that wasn’t necessary information right now. Nor was it worth mentioning that Grief wasn’t as large as the surrounding trees, but then again, it would be nice to grow a few feet taller overall by the end of this traumatic experience.
Grief cleared his throat again, ruffling his wings. In his monologue, he had adapted a rather regal poise, sitting upright with his chest sticking out. “As such, I am here to request your service. Restore my height, and I promise no harm will befall you from myself.”
The snolf's head tilted slightly as he listened to the dragon's tale, taking in Grief's words and trying not to smile at the squeaky pitch of the little drake's voice, though he couldn't help the slight tugging at the corners of his mouth. Still, when the dragon finished, Aaron's expression had turned understanding, and he nodded as he looked Grief over, snake-like eyes seeming to glimmer slightly. "Hmm… yes, I think I can work up a countercurse," the ophidian wolf affirmed, allowing himself a smile as he reached up and tapped his chin in somewhat exaggerated thought, "Though, as you may have heard, my services aren't free. You want something from me, so you'll need to do something of equal value."
“That...is to be expected,” Grief chuffed, sitting himself upright. The idea of owing a service to another creature, anthro or feral, was quite repulsive to the miniature dragon, but owing a debt was even worse. But, he was willing to at least hear him out, perhaps even barter with the tubby snolf should his requests prove unreasonable. “Very well. State your demands.”
Aaron seemed to consider, humming as he regarded the dragon before him with a thoughtful expression. “Hm… can’t really ask someone your size to help with chores… or gathering crystals and herbs,” the snolf mused aloud, apparently missing the indignation the comments brought to the shrunken dragon, though that expression was tame compared to what came after the snolf’s own features lit up, and he proposed, “So, I guess you’ll just have to be my pet for a while! That would be a fitting payment, yes!”
“A pet?!” Grief practically exploded in anger at the very mention of that word. No longer minding his small size, the tiny drake leapt down from his perch and flapped his way in front of the snolf, scowling. “Who do you take me for?! Someone’s house cat? I am a proud and mighty dragon, with a lifespan far eclipsing your own! I am no one’s ‘pet,’ do you understand!” He snarled, marching forward as he roared at the snolf until he was face to face with the hybrid.
The ophidian lupine seemed unperturbed, an attempt at a placating smile on his features. “I mean no offense, really,” Aaron insisted, before gesturing around at the den, “Yet with my mate away on his own business, I get rather lonely. So, the most valuable thing you could offer me at the moment is the company of someone I can treat with a similar level of affection; in other words, a pet. Not permanently, just until you’ve paid for my service fully. That sounds reasonable, right?”
Grief snorted and turned away. “Let me consider it,” he spoke gruffly, his scowl still evident on his face. Anyone who relied on others was weak in the dragon’s eyes, for company or otherwise. Could this Aaron really be trusted to turn him back to his original size? When the snolf spoke, there wasn’t a hint of hesitation or deceit in his voice, only confidence and an annoying amount of gentleness.
The tiny dragon padded around the den, familiarizing himself with the layout of it. As much as he hated to admit it, the den looked quite cozy; far better than his own with its single grass nest. Even the temperature was a little warmer and nicer inside, compared to the somewhat chilly air outside. He was already getting used to walking on the plush carpet; a grand improvement over the stone floor of his own den. As he thought about it, the small drake realized he wasn’t being asked for much else; no labor, no services, just his time and presence.
“Very well, I’ll be your...acquaintance,” Grief spat that word out. He was still reluctant to ever say the word “pet.” The dragon walked back to the snolf. “How long until I’ve paid for your service?”
Apparently unbothered by the dragon’s choice of words, Aaron hummed as he trotted around the little wyrmling, snake-like tongue flickering while he sniffed at Grief from several angles, much to the drake’s bemusement. “Hm… that’s a pretty potent curse,” the snolf mused, his tone akin to a merchant appraising a piece of artwork, judging its value, before his muzzle split into a grin as he straightened himself, “Two months ought to cover it! That’s about how long I’d need to get the things for the countercurse, anyhow. So, lucky you, you get to be my new snuggle buddy until I get that pesky spell off of ya!”
Like a frightened cat, Grief stood with his haunches raised, carefully eyeing the fellow feral. He wasn’t thinking properly when he flew down to Aaron earlier; the snolf was even more massive up close! It was somewhat intimidating, being so close to a big, powerful, and very well fed predator like that, but he endured the sniffing. “Two months...I can last two months,” he muttered moreso to himself than to Aaron. “Very well. For the next two moons, I shall deem myself your snuggle buddy...whatever that entails.”
Aaron grinned again, nodding in satisfaction. “Deal!” the snolf said with finality, leaning his head down and nuzzling Grief’s side softly, “Now, you look like you could use some time to just relax, after all you’ve been through. Why don’t you get yourself comfortable and I’ll get you some food?”
The serpent didn’t wait for an answer, straightening himself and gleefully waddle-trotting his way into the kitchen, long tail trailing along the drake’s side on the way by. “I’m gonna guess you like meat, yeah?” the snolf said, glancing back at the dragon, “Does meatloaf sound nice to you~?”
“Meatloaf?” Grief asked, shuddering as he felt the fluffy tail brush along his flanks. Dragon’s were solitary creatures, after all; he wasn’t familiar with the touch of another fur, and had come to associate any contact as negative. The tiny dragon was understandably quite confused at the softness behind the brushing, as well as the nonchalant way Aaron did so. This snolf was a very strange creature indeed.
Rather than heed the snolf’s advice, the small drake followed closely behind the larger feral, sitting himself around the end of the kitchen. Wrapping his fluffy tail around his legs, Grief watched with wide, curious eyes, eager to watch the snolf in action. “Show me how you procure this ‘meatloaf,’ wizard.”
Aaron smiled as the dragon approached, getting to work preparing the ingredients for the meal, while his long tail gently curled around the dragon in a loose embrace, making sure to be gentle to avoid spooking the obviously-perturbed drake. The lykophis hummed a cheerful little tune while he worked, pausing whenever he passed the little wyrm to lean down and nuzzle at Grief’s side or wing, flashing one of his friendly, goofy smiles, before getting back to work. The dragon’s pulling away from those overt cuddles seemed to do little to deter the snuggly serpent, either completely missing the signals of objection, or deliberately ignoring them; judging by the seemingly-oblivious nature of the lupine, either one seemed equally likely.
Soon, the snolf’s work filled the den with a meaty aroma, the breaded meat coming together into a loaf the size of a large turkey, before being slipped into the oven to finish preparing. “There! Now, just gotta wait for it to bake, and dinner is ready,” Aaron chirped, sitting with a big, proud grin on his muzzle, looking to Grief happily, “Want something sweet in the meantime? I’ve got tons of snacks!”
At this point, Grief had given up trying to shrug off or shy away from the tail’s smothering embraces. There wasn’t much else he could do other than bite that tail, which would no doubt lead to a fate worse than being shrunk. Instead, he focused intently on the way the snolf kneaded the meat together; why Aaron was rolling food with other food before sticking it into that strange metal box instead of just eating it was beyond the dragon.
Just looking at the raw meat made Grief feel quite peckish; the dragon perking up at the offer as snacks. Again, he wasn’t sure why he had to wait for the meat to bake. Perhaps his patience was being tested? “I...would like some snacks, yes.” The dragon nodded, grunting as that tail rubbed against his head again.
Aaron smiled as he moved to the cupboards, nosing open one that was lower to the ground and pulling a batch of home-made brownies from the interior, lifting the tray up and settling it on the counter. Judging by the squares missing from the pan, the snolf had enjoyed his own handiwork already, taking two more squares from the batch and setting one on the counter, before nosing through his cupboards to find a bowl to put the second in. That done, the snolf turned and leaned over, setting the confection down on the ground in front of Grief and nosing it close to the dragon, apparently oblivious to the fact that the brownie was at least half the size of the drake himself. “There! That should be a nice snack for ya while dinner cooks,” he purred, beaming happily to the wyrm below him.
Grief took a moment to sniff at the strange brown square, trying to process that this was, in fact, food. It smelled nothing like any meat the drake had ever sniffed, although the sweetness did vaguely remind him of the fruits he had eaten in the past. He was skeptical, but looking at the snolf’s kind smile reminded him that he was indebted to this wizard. For now, at least.
Carefully, Grief bit off a small corner, rolling the chocolatey bite in his tongue. “It’s...soft,” he muttered to himself, trying to gauge this new experience for himself. Soft...and sweet. He took another bite, this one larger, and rolled that one around as well, trying to discern its strange taste and texture. Unfortunately, that bite was quickly swallowed before Grief could get a good feel for it, and so he took another bite...and then another...and then another.
Soon, the dragon was greedily gobbling down mawful after mawful of the rich and sweet brownie, hardly processing at all what he was doing. There was no rhyme or reason to it; that brownie tasted good! He had completely forgotten about the meatloaf at this point, fixated on this amazing new treat being presented to him, only taking a break halfway through the large brownie to lick his crumb-stained muzzle.
The dragon’s host smiled as he watched, and Grief found that long tail gently brushing against his side as he gobbled down the treat. “Good boy,” Aaron purred, already settling into his new role as the drake’s owner and caretaker. After all, this wasn’t his first such arrangement, judging by how quickly he’d come to this particular method of payment from the dragon. “I have more, if you’d like,” the snolf offered, flashing a sharp-toothed grin to his new companion, “You seem like you’re really enjoying that!”
"Hmmf," the dragon snorted indignantly, swallowing up his current mouthful. For a moment, he had lowered his guard due to being caught off from the delicious chocolatey treat, which was no doubt magically enhanced to entice his senses. What's worse, he had found himself actually leaning into the gentle strokes of the serpent's tail! He was a dragon! A proud and solidary creature, even as he continuously licked his muzzle for any trace remains of the brownie. "It's...unusual. But not too terrible, I suppose." He snorted.
Aaron chuckled at the begrudging reply, laying down on his middle, before rolling onto his side, plump belly facing the little dragon and giving a broad, friendly grin. “Just one of the many treats a pet of mine gets to enjoy!” the serpent stated a paw reaching out to gently stroke Grief’s head, only to pause when the wyrm pulled back from the limb, glaring at the claws with evident distaste. “Now, now, you agreed to this,” Aaron chastised gently, smiling as he gestured to the drake, “Part of being a pet is letting your caretaker groom you. And you look like you could use it, after what you’ve been through!”
"I'm perfectly capable of grooming myself, I'll have you know," the dragon muttered in disdain. He couldn't comprehend why someone would go out of the way to care for someone who wasn't their own young, especially when Grief was supposed to be in debt to the larger creature. Alas, Aaron was right; he DID agree to this. With a sigh, he stepped forward and lowered his head, letting the snolf's chubby paw stroke his shaggy bleached-blond mane and stubby black horns.
Smiling as the drake relented, Aaron scooted a bit closer over the tiled floor, running his claws gingerly through Grief’s mane. In spite of how much bigger the lupine was, his movements were surprisingly delicate, those blunt claws tenderly working small snags and tangles out of the drake’s hair, all while cooing and purring in fawning adoration. Awkward as it was for the dragon, he bore through it, true to his word, though that didn’t stop him from grumbling and frowning the whole time.
Luckily for the dragon’s wounded ego, the snolf perked up at the subtle “ding!” given by the stove, grinning as he got to his paws and fetched a muzzle-shaped oven mitt from the drawer beside the stove. Carefully, the oversized canine pulled the meatloaf from the oven, setting the tray on the counter and taking in an exaggerated breath through his snout, before sighing in approval and grinning down to his new pet. “Just gotta wait for it to cool off, then dinner is served!”
Curiosity piqued the dragon's interest as the whole room smelled rich and meaty. As if forgetting his brownie-stuffed belly, the dragon took off at a running start, flapping his powerful wings and soaring onto the tall counter. Puffing from the effort (he was somewhat bloated, after all), the tiny Grief carefully padded towards the heated loaf of meat, his nostrils twitching. "Interesting...I'm starting to see why your belly is so large."
Far from offended, the snolf simply grinned cheekily as his tail patted the side of his paunch. “Not hard to enjoy food when you’re good at cooking!” he said with a hint of pride, his attention turning to the meatloaf as he seemed to concentrate for a moment. In the blink of an eye, the loaf of beef split into multiple sections, as though invisible blades had carved it up into thick slices, ready to be served up onto plates. Which the snolf promptly did, his muzzle gesturing and causing one of those juicy slices to hover up onto a small platter, before sliding it toward the dragon with a grin as he crooned, “Another treat for the mighty dragon~”
Unfortunately, Grief was not as amused of the snolf's magic tricks, having leapt back and hissed once the meatloaf started moving on its own. Only once the pile of meat finally settled on his plate did the dragon finally pad his way back, inspecting his meal. Despite looking similar to the wedge of chocolate, it smelled quite different. The meat had been seasoned, making it difficult for even the drake's sharp sense of smell to detect what animal it was from. It was unusual, strange, a cause for concern for Grief.
But one bite completely changed his mind.
Grief tore into the meatloaf just as he did the brownie, his slitted green eyes wide with shock. It was good! Too good! He couldn't stop himself from eating, only taking a break to gasp and pant due to the excess heat, puffing out steam before delving right back in. His filling stomach no longer concerned him, even as it rounded and tightened out with even more food!
As the dragon ate, Aaron sat nearby, that same adoring, fond smile glued to his muzzle, watching the drake’s flanks bow outward with each ravenous bite. When it looked like Grief would finish off the first slice of meatloaf, another hovered over to settle on the dragon’s plate, the snolf purring softly as he leaned in and nuzzled at his pet’s side. “I take it the meatloaf is to your liking?” the lykophis crooned affectionately, smiling as his muzzle brushed against the fur of the shrunken dragon’s underside, “You have lovely fur, by the way~”
The dragon grunted, a stifled burp escaping his muzzle. “It’s...interesting. The food, I mean, not my fur,” Grief quickly stated, clearing his throat. So full of food, the drake settled himself in his spot, tucking his legs beneath his stretched furry stomach as he ate. Being reminded of his soft underbelly, the reptile let out another snort. “My fur is a necessity. My kind live on the peaks of the highest mountains, where it is essentially eternal winter. It’s imperative our fur stays thick to survive the harsh conditions. We go through what you ferals would consider hibernation, with the exception that we don’t enjoy the luxury that is *hic* spring time.” Perhaps it was the hours of flying and his overstuffed stomach that made the dragon sleepily ramble on as he did, the dragon speaking more in that moment than he normally spoke at all to any other creature. He was getting quite sleepy, his eyelids starting to droop, even as he continued to nibble and pick at his meatloaf.
Aaron listened to the dragon with a look of interest, another smile crossing his muzzle as he reached up to gently brush his claws through the drake’s belly fur. “I bet you cut quite the impressive figure against all that snow,” the snolf hummed, before flashing a toothy smile, “If it’s any consolation, I think you still bear your draconic majesty, even at this size!”
Playful as the snolf was, it seemed his words were earnest, at least in this instance, bearing a happy smile on his face as his other paw came up to caress the other side of Grief’s middle, rubbing the dragon’s stretched stomach soothingly. “Is this gonna be enough food for you?” Aaron purred, leaning in to get a look at the drake’s face.
“Flattery will earn you no favors with me,” the dragon snorted, letting out another stifled burp. He was getting tired; Grief closing his eyes to let out a big wide yawn. Unbeknownst to him, a little squeak escaped his lips as he did so, the dragon smacking his chops of any leftover meatloaf. “And this is...sufficient food,” Grief hiccuped, yet again reaching for yet another bite, having to practically drag himself closer with that overstuffed middle weighing him down.
The snolf grinned wide, no longer able to resist the cuteness on display, and gently slipped his paws under the dragon’s middle, getting a squeaky gasp of surprise as he lifted Grief up against his chest, cradling the dragon in an arm. In spite of the very verbal objections and high-pitched growls of protest, Aaron simply hummed softly as he took the meatloaf from the counter, holding it to the dragon’s muzzle and giving a fond smile. “Shh, just relax~” the snolf purred, gently swaying Grief against his chest, “Part of being a pet is letting your caretaker spoil you, so just rest and let me take care of you~”
“I don’t consent,” Grief growled, but offered little in terms of resistance. He was simply too full and bloated and, much to his dismay, comfortable. He laid there, silently fuming, a little ball of fur, scales, and hatred. With more meatloaf being presented directly before his muzzle, however, the tiny dragon found himself too busy eating to give criticisms or insults. He was still, silently cramming even more delicious food into his very overstuffed belly, which let out a few gurgled complaints, letting the snolf rock and pet him like a tiny pet. His growling and grumbling died down, replaced with tiny hiccups and burps; every time he opened his tiny maw, he found more meatloaf gently pressed into it. Soon, the overfed dragon couldn’t keep up and finally admitted defeat, slumping back against the snolf’s soft chest and falling asleep, a few tiny snores and snorts mixing with the gurgles of his stomach.
Aaron tittered softly as he saw the dragon nod off, popping the rest of the meatloaf into his muzzle and getting to his paws, walking three-pawed over to the bed at the other end of the den. With utmost care, the snolf climbed into the circular nest, taking a moment to get settled on his side, before hugging the sleeping dragon in against his chest like a scaly, bloated teddy bear. Cozy and pleased, it didn’t take long for the snolf to join in the dragon’s impromptu nap, sleepily nuzzling at the top of Grief’s head even as he slept.
With all that food in his belly, Grief was completely knocked out. He didn’t stir or react to any of Aaron’s squeezing and cuddling, which was certainly a blessing for the snolf who simply wanted a cuddle buddy. He was out cold, snoring slightly as he slept for hours and hours on end.
When he did finally come to, the dragon was startled to find himself in the loving embrace of the fat hybrid. Growling in annoyance, Grief tried wiggling his way to freedom without alerting his caretaker, but to no avail. He simply couldn’t squeeze his way out from amidst those claws, not without making a ruckus, that is. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite aware of what rules and boundaries came with being a pet; was he supposed to lie still and wait for Aaron to wake, or could he free himself and explore. Fidgeting with nervousness, the drake carefully rolled over until he was facing the snolf, his warm breath washing over the hybrid’s snoot.
That moist snout started to twitch, along with the whiskers on the snolf’s muzzle, the lupine giggling softly in his sleep, before the dragon found himself being pulled in against Aaron’s chest in a dozey, somewhat over-tight hug, letting out a soft “meep!” when Grief squirmed and growled in objection. Head lifting, the serpent blinked groggily as he looked down to investigate the wiggling form in his paws, the events of the previous day returning to mind as he found a rather grumpy-looking dragon glaring back up at him, the tiny form’s evident unamusement making the serpent grin with endearment. “Well, good morning!” the lykophis greeted happily, giving Grief a few light pats on the head, “How’s my new pet feeling after his little nap?”
The miniature dragon grunted with each pet, slinking away from the petting. It took all of Grief’s will power to not snap at that paw, although he did find himself talking through clenched teeth. “Just fine...just fine,” he muttered, before clearing his throat. Truth be told, it was a wonderful sleep; he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept on such a full belly, let alone on such a soft bed. It could have been the best sleep he had received in any lifetimes were it not for the overweight snolf holding him so close, but it was an adequate enough compromise, he figured.
Free from the snolf’s grasp, Grief leapt to the edge of the bed and sat, looking at the laying prone intently while curling his fluffy tail around his ankles. “What is today’s objective, snolf?” He asked matter of factly.
Aaron’s head tilted at the question. “Objective?” he repeated in a tone more akin to an oblivious puppy than a mighty spellcaster, before his features lit up in recognition, “Oh! You want to help out, I see! Well, what a good lil’ derg you are~”
Grinning, the portly snolf hefted himself up onto his paws, performing a very cat-like stretch and yawning wide, his back arching before he leaned forward, belly and chest both smooshing against the bed below and long tail coiling, before straightening himself with a big grin. “I dunno,” Aaron replied, looking around the den, “Things are pretty clean, no straightening up needs done… oh! How’s your nose? Good at sniffing things out?”
“It is. Quite good, in fact,” Grief, nodded. He did not break eye contact with his owner, although his gaze did glance downwards as he noticed the snolf’s middle pressing against the soft bed. Being asked about his acute senses did make the dragon swell his chest in pride, feeling redeemed in knowing that he could still prove useful even at his diminutive size. “May I ask what you need for my sensory skills? Perhaps you wish for me to help locate prey?”
“Oh, not prey, no!” Aaron replied, shaking his head as he stepped out of bed, pudgy flank brushing against the dragon on the way by. Padding over to the back wall of the den, the snolf nosed at the sigil that appeared at his approach, the barrier melting away while he glanced over his shoulder. “C’mere, lil’ buddy,” the serpent purred, nodding toward the hidden shelves, “If you can track down some of the herbs in here, we could go for a walk and you can help me sniff out these plants!”
“Plants... of course,” Grief muttered dejectedly. He shouldn’t have been surprised; the small dragon couldn’t even catch a squirrel at his size. With a sigh, he strode forward, rearing onto his hindlegs and leaning against the wall to get a better look and smell at the plants. “What herbs should I track?”
The hybrid smiled at the endearing sight, taking the basket he’d brought home the previous day in his maw and lowering it to the ground for Grief to see into more easily, though the shrunken dragon still had to pull himself up against the side of the container to get a look inside. “Nightshades, mints, mushrooms, whatever you think you’d be able to help me track down,” Aaron said, nosing at the herbs within the basket, mixed in between crystals that seemed far too common and cloudy to be worth much to a jeweler, yet if the drake had to hazard a guess, the snolf likely had a good use for such things.
Standing on his hind legs and leaning into the basket, the dragon took a few whiffs. He was relieved to discover his impressive sense of smell wasn’t hindered at his diminutive size; it only took a few sniffs to properly discern the three different scents he was supposed to be tracking. The smells were so strong, Grief was actually considering taking a nip out of the mint leaf. A shame the crystals didn’t have much a scent on them; otherwise he would have offered to search for those as well.
“I could help you locate these,” the dragon stated matter of factly. “I have no prior experience gathering herbs, but this shouldn’t be a problem to a dragon such as myself.”
“Attaboy,” Aaron purred, placing the basket back in its place, before pulling an empty one from the shelves, transferring the container to the coils of his tail and smiling down to the dragon, “First things first, though, we ought to get lil’ old you some breakfast! How about some bacon and eggs, tough guy?” The question seemed rhetorical; at least, it definitely looked that way, since the snolf was already halfway to the kitchen before he’d even finished his inquiry.
“What’s an ‘Attaboy?’” Grief asked, before shaking his head. This snolf was weird; he wouldn’t be surprised if half the words that spilled from the hybrid’s mouth were just nonsense. Bacon, for example, sounded like another made up word to the dragon, but he was aware of what eggs were, and suddenly found himself feeling quite famished. With a flick of his tail, the little dragon followed his owner towards the kitchen, sitting in his previous spot so as to better observe Aaron once again.
“Oh, it’s a shortening of ‘that’s a good boy’,” Aaron explained while padding into the kitchen, setting the basket down at the end of the counter and freeing his tail to fetch ingredients from the cupboards. “And a helpful pet like you is definitely a good boy!” the hybrid crooned happily, setting out a frying pan for the meat and eggs that his tail pulled from the refrigerator, a wave of cool air washing briefly over the dragon from the tall, alabaster box. Setting a slab of pork on the counter, the snolf gave a gesture over it with his muzzle, thin strips of meat cutting away from the main mass as though carved off with unseen knives, while his tail cracked eggs against the side of the pan, followed by salt, pepper, and other spices that had an aromatic smell drifting down to the dragon below.
Yup. Nothing Aaron said made sense. He was a good boy, then a ‘lil old you’ the next. Grief gave up trying to make sense of the snolf, and instead tried making sense of his caretaker’s method of preparing meals. The minute the frigid air washed over him from the strange black box, the dragon realized not even that made sense. However, being a mountain dragon and used to chilly climates, he wondered if he could perhaps find a way to sneak into the fridge and make off with a few snacks of his own sometime.
The minute the bacon and eggs released their scent, however, the dragon immediately forewent any thought of eating whatever cold and hard food was hidden within the fridge, only wanting a bite of whatever was cooking! His middle growled, the dragon leaping and flying onto the counter eagerly, eyes wide as he stared intently at what was soon to be breakfast.
A grin crossed Aaron’s muzzle as he found the counter occupied by his shrunken companion, tail coming up and gently brushing Grief’s back. “Aww, someone looks hungry!” the serpent tittered, leaning in and nuzzling the drake’s side softly, “I’d better make sure I make enough for you, then~”
As soon as those words left the snolf’s mouth, the dragon saw more slices of meat peeling up from the main slab, hovering into the pan alongside the rest, while another pair of eggs tapped themselves against the side of the dish, depositing their contents in amongst the rest of the meal. “Hm… missing a little something… oh!” Aaron perked up, looking toward his fridge as his tail wrapped around the handle, tugging open the door and pulling out some grated cheese. Adding a sprinkle of the dairy to the eggs, the serpent gave another grin while he plated up a pair of servings onto plates, sliding one over to the dragon, Grief’s own serving seeming just as big as the snolf’s, “There you are, lil’ buddy! Nums to nom for your tiny tum!”
Grief didn’t even bother to dignify what Aaron had just said with a response. He didn’t even know where to begin, but from the sound of it, he was finally ready to eat. Wrapping his tail around his ankles, the pint-sized drake settled himself down, taking a few hesitant bites of the bacon. Once again, Grief was caught off guard by the explosion of flavor in his mouth, letting out a pleasured growl. Since when was meat this flavorful? He could do without the grease, perhaps, but everything else was...fantastic!
And the eggs! He took a large chomp out of those as well, not at all surprised to find a treasure trove of flavor behind that pillowy texture. The strange spices Aaron sprinkled on top of them seemed to only enhance that flavor! How was that possible? Shifting closer towards his meal, the dragon continued to eat with gusto, purring all the while.
Involved as he was with his breakfast, Grief took little notice of the snolf that watched him with an adoring smile. Sidling over, the serpent’s paws came up and ever-so-gently brushed against the side of the dragon’s fuzzy middle while Grief ate, getting a low chuff of annoyance from the drake, though he rather begrudgingly allowed the soft caressing. He’d accepted by now that he’d need to tolerate the ophidian wolf’s overly-cuddly nature; besides, it wasn’t as though the gentle stroking felt bad…
Before he knew it, Grief had managed to finish off nearly half of the meal that had been slid before him, and it was around that point that fullness began to hit the drake. With a few more nibbles, the dragon leaned back, huffing softly in satisfaction, a glance over his shoulder revealing the far-too-close muzzle of his caretaker, grinning toothily while gently nosing at the side of his midsection. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you enjoy my cooking~” Aaron purred, giving the wyrm’s soft belly a gentle lick as he purred in affection.
The dragon shuddered slightly from the sudden lick, but did little else to protest the affection. He was quite comfortable, after all; a warm meal in his belly did wonders for his typical stone-cold expression. Grief wasn’t smiling, by any means, but he wasn’t scowling as well, which was quite an improvement. “It’s...interesting, to say the least,” Grief admitted, stifling a quiet burp. “I’m curious how you learned your craft. Your…’cooking’ technique looks like something an anthro would do.”
As much as Grief despised anthros, he couldn’t deny that their food was simply divine. Even now, with his belly round and taut with a warm meal, the dragon thought about when his next course would be. Full and sluggish, the tiny wyrm carefully looked over the counter, suddenly not looking forward to hopping down and marching around the forest with his caretaker.
Seeming to catch the dragon’s look of uncertainty, Aaron smiled as he nuzzled Grief once more, before his tail came up and gently wrapped around the dragon. Though protesting with a soft growl at first, the sound was ignored as the snolf lifted Grief to his back, letting the drake rest between his shoulders. “I do business with anthros frequently, and agreed to perform a service for a chef once in exchange for her teaching me how to cook,” the snolf explained, looking back to the little form resting on his back with a warm smile, “As you probably guessed, I don’t accept payment in the form of money for my services; I much prefer the exchange of favors over dirty old coins!”
Tail curling around his basket once more, the lykophis gave the dragon a grin. “And your own payment has been very pleasant so far~” he purred, rubbing his cheek against Grief’s side, “Want to ride there while we head out, lil’ buddy?”
Grief wasn’t exactly at ease laying on the back of someone else, let alone the snolf he owed a favor to, but he didn’t complain. He was still feeling slow and sluggish, so perhaps a little ride wouldn’t be a bad thing. “For now, perhaps,” the dragon muttered, his wings still raised un easily. At least the snolf’s back was wide and plush.
It felt weird for Grief to be giving orders to someone he was indebted to, but he soon found it quite fun! “Slow down, turn right. Behind the Oak,” the dragon commanded, watching as Aaron was rewarded with a few mushrooms growing out from the base of the tree. It was somewhat empowering, commanding a beast several times his size; perhaps not as empowering as actually being several times his size, but it was the next best thing, in the dragon’s opinion.
Once his stomach had settled, Grief carefully flapped down beside his owner and lead the search himself. The pace went much slower, as the small dragon’s legs couldn’t match the lengthy stride of his chubby companion, but it was still better than being carried like a helpless whelp. Besides, he thought, this way Aaron wouldn’t be constantly rubbing his tail against the small dragon, although he was soon proved wrong as the snolf would occasionally loom over him to preen his blond mane. There was just no escaping the snolf’s constant affection, it would seem.
With the help of Grief’s keen sense of smell, it was only a few short hours later when Aaron’s basket was full to the brim with herbs, a bright grin on the snolf’s muzzle as they made their way back toward the serpent’s den. The hybrid allowed his pet to lead the way; it seemed to boost the drake’s mood being able to take the initiative, and it meant he got to watch the adorable way the little wyrm waddled around his tubby middle. Though notably less distended, it seemed like some of those calories had decided to stick around, padding out Grief’s waistline and flanks in plump pudge. It wasn’t a dramatic difference, yet it was enough for the snolf to tell that his cooking was having exactly its desired effect.
“So,” Aaron started as the pair ducked into his home, smiling down to the dragon warmly, “Why don’t you take yourself a nice rest, you’ve definitely earned it! I’ll get you some lunch, and a little surprise, as well~”
Grief didn’t need to be told twice. It was quite the lengthy walk for the tiny dragon, even considering he spent part of it riding the snolf’s back. He quickly padded onto the carpet and over to the cushions, before settling himself beside one of them. Finally off his feet, the small dragon let out a big, silent yawn. He couldn’t help but feel quite proud of how productive his day was. If Aaron was true to his word, then Grief was one step closer to finally reclaiming his own size. He allowed himself a brief smug look, leaning further into the cushions. He was more than satisfied watching the snolf work from his position for now.
Smiling at the endearing sight from the kitchen for a moment, Aaron turned and got to work, the dragon hearing as dishes and ingredients were gathered. Soon, the scent of burgers wafted out to the little drake, and in his tired, somewhat dozey state, it seemed like no time at all before he found a plate being settled before him, a tall, broad hamburger with several toppings and dressings forming what looked like a veritable hill of food from the dragon’s perspective. “Such a good, helpful pet deserves a big, tasty treat,” Aaron purred as he settled down beside the wyrm, a small, black collar held in his paw, “And a badge of honor for such dedicated service, as well!”
All those compliments made the dragon’s chest swell with pride. Only a day in, and he was already doing great work! He was still unnerved at how fond the other feral was of inhabiting his personal space, something he was certain he could never fully grow accustomed to, but he could at least tolerate it for the time being. Soon, he would be his normal size yet again, Grief could fly far, far away...although, maybe coming back for a snack or two once in a while wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Speaking of snacks, Grief took an eager bite out of his burger, no longer trying to sample the meat before diving right in. As expected, his taste buds immediately died and went to heaven, the drake delighted to discover the burger tasted similar to the meatloaf he devoured last night, only with a different texture. Grief had scarfed down three big mouthfuls of meat before finally noticing the black collar, frowning. “What is that?” He asked, leaning away in apprehension.
Aaron’s head tilted at the question, before smiling as he brought the collar in closer for Grief to get a better look at. “It’s a collar; a way for a pet’s caretaker to show that they’re proud of their pet!” the snolf said with a bright grin, “Displaying their name in a show of approval and affection, and I’d say after that outing, you’ve more than earned it~”
The dragon was still apprehensive, sniffing the collar nervously. Judging by the size of it, the ring was supposed to go around his neck; a very vital spot that Grief was very hesitant of anyone touching. All instincts told the dragon to bolt out while he could and to never look back. In fact, he would have done just that if Aaron had presented him with the collar just the other day.
But after living with the snolf for a day, after experiencing the delicious food and gentle affection he was forcibly showered with by the hybrid, Grief figured the least he could do was to give his caretaker the benefit of the doubt.
“If it hastens my inevitable regrowth, then so be it,” the dragon growled, tensing up as his caretaker carefully slid the collar past his snout and onto his neck, tightening it slightly until it was snug around his neck. Once Aaron had the collar secured (which also came with plenty of head pets and nuzzles) the dragon continued his delve into his meaty meal, trying to put the collar out of his mind. Plenty of food, warmth, and shelter until Aaron finally decided to regrow him? Grief chuffed; he could get used to this.
He certainly did grow used to this. Grief didn’t even flinch when he found himself waking up in the arms of his caretaker; every morning started off with him forcibly snuggled against the snolf in some way, feeling his side squeeze into the snolf’s squishy squishy flanks as if he were just another enormous cushion. The dragon was starting to tolerate the hybrid’s constant nuzzling much better; in fact, on any normal circumstance, he would have tried falling asleep yet again in his owner’s embrace. However, a growing sense of unease had been festering within his mind, one that spurred him to carefully shrug his way out of Aaron’s embrace and off the bed.
To put it simply; Grief had it too good. He was supposed to be indebted to Aaron, to be his personal servant in exchange for his previous size, and he was practically treated like royalty! Aside from helping the snolf sniff out some herbs or fetch an item or two, Grief never had to lift a claw! Aaron was there for every need he had - carrying him, grooming him, cleaning him, sheltering him, feeding him - oh man, was he fed!
Aaron had an obsession with keeping the drake well fed that rivled his constant nuzzling and cuddling! The serpent was always the first to suggest a snack break or a meal, always serving extra large helping to the dragon who couldn’t possibly finish such an enormous serving on his own. But Aaron liked to see if he could, often times offering to hand feed the bloated dragon, showering him with enough praise and warm food that Grief couldn’t resist just one more bite.
With all the warm food and lazing around, it came to no surprise when Grief started putting on weight. Before he met Aaron, the dragon was already bordering on chubby; now, he had surpassed chubby and was teetering towards tubby! This was apparent as the dragon’s gait had turned into a bit of a waddle, his legs spreading out to make room for his gut. That dome of a belly was shaped just like his caretaker’s: round and jiggly, hanging by his knees on the rare times it wasn’t filled with fattening food. His broad back now had a bit of bounce to it when he waddled, his angular face looking more cerubic and soft, even his limbs and thighs were padded and soft to the touch. Even his collar, which was almost a little loose the day he first adorned it, was now fitting quite snug against his neck, digging in slightly into the chub. He was a very well-fed drake.
Despite his sudden gain, Grief was hardly concerned with how heavy and broad he was growing. In a way, he figured this was part of Aaron’s method of helping him reclaim his current size, although he did wish the growth was a bit more..uniform. Feeling his legs brush against his hanging gut only made the dragon feel more anxious; his master was doing so much for him, and Grief was offering little in return! What if it was a trap; a test to see if he would prove useful on his own or if he needed the guidance of others to show his worth?!
Heart racing with anxiety, the dragon soon lumbered his way towards the entrance of the cave. Once off the carpet, he got to work dragging his fluffy tail along the ground, sweeping the floor like he had seen the serpent do before. It was time he started proving his worth, although with his small size and large cave, it may be some time before he finished properly sweeping. Nonetheless, the dragon persisted, his big rump bouncing as he wiggled and swept his tail along in broad strokes, the sound of sweeping filling the air, along with all the dust the drake was kicking up.
Those low sounds didn't seem to disturb the dreams of the snolf that rested in his bed, though his ears did twitch periodically when the little dragon was sweeping near his bed. The dust, however, was another story, Aaron's snout starting to wiggle slightly as particles settled on his nose, the bridge of his snout wrinkling for a moment as his eyes fluttered open briefly, head lifting and muzzle parting, before a loud sneeze woke the serpent up. Shaking his head, the ophidian pawed at his snout, glancing around in groggy bemusement until his gaze landed on the plump little wyrm that busied himself with removing as much of the dust from the den as he could, quiet huffs coming to the snolf's ears from the effort Grief put into cleaning.
"Aww! Look at you go," Aaron cooed in delight, grinning down at the dragon from his bed, "You really don't have to go out of your way like this, lil' buddy. But it's sweet seeing you do nice things for me~"
The little dragon sat down next to the bed after a few moments, huffing quietly. All that sweeping was exhausting, especially for someone of his size...and shape. Grief quickly shook his head, dust sprinkling out of his mane. "My aim is to finally convince you to help me regain my previous size. I believe this would help speed up the process of ah...aaah….CHOO!" The pudgy drake let loose a comically-squeaky sneeze, sniffling and rubbing his poor snoot against the edge of the bed to wipe off any dust.
Aaron couldn't help giggling at the adorable sound, puffing slightly as he pulled himself out of bed, taking a seat beside the wyrm and leaning down to gently nuzzle at the dragon's side. "You don't have to go through all the trouble, you know," the snolf said in a gentle tone, giving Grief a kind smile, "We already agreed on your payment, you don't need to convince me more. Besides, you're getting your lovely fur all dusty." The serpent reached a paw forward and gently brushed some of the dust out of Grief's tail fur, tutting softly and shaking his head, "Goodness, lil' buddy, you've gotten yourself all messy. I think it's time I gave you a bath~"
"A bath?" Grief repeated, flicking his dust-coated tail. He shouldn't have been surprised; he was practically covered in dust, his blackened scales almost as grey as the rest of him. The little dragon huffed and looked away, trying to hide his wounded pride. "V-very well. I shall clean myself in the nearby river," he prepared, turning towards the entrance of the cave.
That momentum was suddenly diverted when Grief felt lupine fangs gently gripping ahold of his scruff. The dragon gasped as his paws reflexively tucked up against himself, before letting out a stream of vitriolic objections as he was carried toward the kitchen. Aaron seemed completely oblivious to the high-pitched growls and squeaks of dismay from his pet as he happily trotted over to the sink, gently setting Grief into the bottom of the metal depression and licking his face affectionately. "I think you'll enjoy a bath here much better than the river," the snolf insisted, nosing at the knobs on either side of the faucet and starting up a stream of warm, steamy water, before smiling to the drake fondly, "Is this a nice temperature for you?"
Grief didn't respond right away, rather he sat there glaring daggers at the large lupine. "No one is to know of this. Understood?" He grumbled, his threatening demeanour undermined by his squeaky voice and roundish body.
With a sigh, the dragon sat and watched as the warm water lapped onto his paws, slowly filling the basin. A part of him had a moment's panic, but seeing as how he could easily climb out from the sink at any time, he figured he was safe from drowning. Oddly enough, the warm water was extremely pleasing to the touch, the dragon slowly settling himself lower into the water. "Yes, this is nice...I suppose." He added that last comment offhandedly, as if afraid to show positive emotion towards anything, yet it was hard to hide the happy rumbles as he leaned forward to try and lick from the faucet.
Aaron smiled again at the little dragon as he watched Grief relax, letting the sink fill up just enough for the water to lap over the drake's back, before bringing the water to a stop. Sitting on his haunches, the serpent reached over the sink and procured a few bottles of shampoos and ointments, starting to add them to the water. "You might want to avoid drinking the bathwater, the soap makes it taste bad," the snolf informed his pet, giving the dragon's chubby cheek another gentle nuzzle, before dabbing a few drops of shampoo onto his paws and setting his digits on Grief's shoulders. With gentle, tender movements, Aaron started to massage the soap across the dragon's scales, his digits working gently into the supple pudge of Grief's body, rubbing in circles down the wyrm's flanks, before kneading back up along either side of the drake's spine, repeating the pattern a few times while humming happily to the little dragon.
Grief tried to maintain his stern and rough complexion, but his icy glare gradually melted in the warm soapy waters around him. Overtime, the dragon’s eyelids grew heavier, and save for a few watery flicks from his wings and tail, the drake ended up completely still. Even more, he started purring! A week of staying with the overly-affectionate snolf had finally weakened his cautious and sensitive side. The constant groomings, nuzzlings, holdings; all of it made the dragon stop flinching every time the hybrid grew close to him. Having finally abandoned his typical fears and anxieties, Grief found himself actually enjoying the gentle scritching along his supple frame. He did his best not to show it on his face, but he loved the attention his dirty, heavy body got, even rubbing his chubby cheek against the snolf’s paw once on reflex!
Aaron paused as the dragon's soft face nuzzle against his pawpad, a wide grin spreading over his muzzle as he gently brushed the soap from the drake's cheek. "Such a good boy you are," the snolf purred, reaching into the sink and pulling the plug to let some of the water drain, "Now, time to get all that tum fluff clean. Roll over, boy~" The gentle command was accompanied by another toothy smile, the snolf plugging the sink again once the water level was halfway down the drake's limbs.
“I’ve told you before, my name isn’t boy,” Grief growled softly, flicking water at the snolf’s snoot with his wings. He wondered if it was customary for pets to be referred to their genders, rather than their names; if that’s the case, then how could one owner keep track of multiple pets? It was all too confusing for the dragon. Rather than think on it too hard, the miniature drake sighed and slowly rolled his barrel body to the side, revealing his very well-fed middle. Grief still stared at the snolf with wide eyes; his belly was quite sensitive, and that was something that would take more than a week of rubs and hugs to fix.
The serpent seemed to notice the dragon’s apprehension, giving a gentle smile to the little wyrm, before resting his paw over the drake’s middle, ever-so-gently combing his claws through the moistened fur. “I know, I know, but you’re just such a little cutie, I can’t help talking to you like you’re actually a little pet I can keep and spoil forever,” Aaron purred, carefully working the shampoo into Grief’s ventral fur, a grin coming over the snolf’s snout as he felt the supple pudge squishing under his digits, “And you seem to have taken very well to my pampering, after all~”
Grief frowned at those words, looking up at the snolf apprehensively. “That wasn’t the deal. I am to remain being your pet only as long as you deem necessary, until which you will allow me to regrow to my previous size. I will gratefully do whatever else is necessary to achieve that goal, but I will be none too pleased if I should discover you’ve been deceiving me this whole time.” The dragon couldn’t speak seriously enough to back of his words; after all, he was on his side in soapy water while his caretaker squeezed and kneaded his soft belly. He continued staring at the snolf unwavering, waiting for a response.
Aaron gave a soft giggle as he shook his head. “Oh, of course! I wouldn’t go back on my word like that; I simply mean I’ve been sincerely enjoying your company,” the snolf clarified, smiling back to the little dragon while he massaged the suds through Grief’s abdominal fur, perhaps kneading around more than was strictly necessary as he enjoyed how soft and doughy the drake’s middle felt. “You have my word, once your two month period is up, you’ll be back to your old size,” he said, before his smile turned a big impish, “Or perhaps, a little bigger, depending on how things go~”
“Bigger?” Grief repeated again, his eyes widening. He never once considered the possibility of growing beyond his previous size! Being the antisocial drake he was, Grief completely missed what the impish grin may have entailed as he leaned his head back to better regard the snolf, bunching up his neck rolls slightly. “You said depending on how things go, correct? What can I do to help you grow myself bigger than before?”
The serpent blinked for a moment, before another twinkle of mischief lit up in his eyes, though he quickly subdued the expression to give another of his gentle smiles. “Oh, well that’s quite easy,” Aaron replied, taking up a pawful of water and trickling it over the drake’s underside, rinsing the soap from Grief’s fur, “Y...
A very fun rp collab I did with the talented psychicimmortality where my very grumpy drake Grief suddenly finds himself with a small problem. He turns to Aaron for help in exchange for a service, but little does he realize the big changes this will cause him.
I'm not sure if this counts as anything for macro march, but Grief does get pretty damn tall in the end, as well as extremely wide. I'm also not sure if cat-sized dragons count as micros or not, but, well, here we are :p
I hope you all enjoy~
Edit: whoops, looks like the discription cut out. You can download the file here too: https://docs.google.com/document/d/.....it?usp=sharing
Grief was free high in the skies. Unbound, unchained, the great dragon was lord in his own domain. The very clouds bent to the will of his powerful leathery wings, swirling around the draconic being as he soared through the air. The tree tops swayed and brustled beneath the beat of his mighty flaps, rustling the leaves. High in the sky, Grief was massive, enormous, a true spectacle worthy of his draconic lineage.
It was just a shame that was a farce once he approached the ground.
Lowering himself beneath the trees, the dragon felt a pang of anxiety as the very same tree tops started to loom above him. This feeling was exasperated the lower he glided. Trees, rocks, even bushes started rising above him, the self-proclaimed lord now looking like a humble peasant in his own woods. Finally, with a careful flap of his wings, the drake settled onto the grass, frowning as he felt the green blades rise above his claws.
In the sky, Grief felt enormous and imposing.
But back in grounded reality, the dragon was the size of a house cat.
The dragon carefully strode forward, his fluffy tail and scaly back heightened with anticipation. He was easy pickings on the ground, the drake needing a bit of a startup before he could take off flying. He felt impeccably small, a literal snack for any predator who happened to spot the pint-sized drake meandering on his own. The dreaded feeling only grew worse as the blond dragon carefully approached the hole in the rockside. To anyone else, it was simply a large cave, with an entrance big enough to fit a fully grown, normal-sized dragon. To Grief, it was an impeccably large maw ready to swallow him up.
Grief scowled. He shouldn’t have to feel so fearful and submissive of anyone, let alone a simple cave. He was a dragon, the mightest form of life to have ever walked the Earth! With indignation pushing out his trepidation, the small drake marched forward, letting the darkness engulf him.
The drake stepped forward through the shadows for what felt like several minutes, though in reality it was less than one before he saw the glow of light ahead, where the tunnel opened into a wide chamber. Inside, the drake found a bit of an odd sight; it was like someone had combined the aspects of an anthro's home and a feral's den, with standing lamps and hanging lights illuminating the interior, revealing walls made of packed earth or clay. A plush carpet covered most of the den's floor, giving way to wooden floorboards in a section of the chamber that looked like a kitchen, including a refrigerator and stove on either side of a wall-mounted sink. On the opposite side was what appeared to be a mix of a bedroom and living room, with a wooden, ovoid frame that held a myriad of cushions of various sizes, the nest sitting across from a wall-mounted television, a boxy device situated on an entertainment center beneath the screen. The whole home was contained in a singular room, with round walls that arched up into a domed ceiling above, and for the moment, it seemed like no one was home.
It was a very unusual den, at least from Grief’s perspective. Granted, his perspective was a little, shall we say, skewed at the moment, but it was still strange seeing so much modern technology situated in a cave in the middle of nowhere. The carpet felt strange on the feral drake’s claws, who took a moment to knead into the plush fabric to better get acquainted with it. Forgetting why he was there for a moment, Grief carefully padded around, sniffing and familiarizing himself with many of the strange objects situated in the cave. His keen scent told him that whoever lived here hadn’t been gone for long, but there was no way of telling when they would return.
Being the somewhat paranoid dragon that he was, Grief figured his best bet would be to wait at the highest perch he could find: that being the fridge. With a running start, the dragon quickly flapped his way onto the big box, finding it rather difficult for his claws to get a grip on the metallic structure, before finally pulling himself up. There, he gently lowered himself into a more prone position, wrapping his fluffy grey tail around his legs. He could easily see the entire room from his height; all he had to do was wait.
It took a while for the dragon's waiting to pay off, but after a little over half an hour, a new sound joined in the gentle hum of the refrigerator beneath the dragon, the falls of heavy paws padding over earthy ground resonating down the den's entryway, growing in volume as the owner of those paws drew near. As Grief watched the entrance, a large, canine head emerged into the light, revealing quite the odd creature.
Though lupine in shape, the being was much larger than a normal wolf, big enough that he just might have stood an inch or two taller than a work horse. Dark, mossy-green fur coated the critter's back and flanks, with creamy-white fur on his underside, pale belly swaying level with his knees as he strode into den, carrying a wicker basket by its handle in his muzzle. A long, powerful tail slithered behind the oversized wolf, taking several more moments to slip into the chamber after the creature's body, reminding Grief of a fluffy anaconda that ended in a fluffy tuft like a lion's, the same pale color as the creature's ventral side. Two lines of the same creamy color extended back from the strangely-serpentine wolf's eyes, meeting at the base of his neck and joining as one stripe running down the animal's long spine.
Amber eyes glittering with evident self-satisfaction, the critter stepped toward the back of the den, to a blank, empty portion of the dirt wall. Or at least, it had been empty, until the creature neared, and in the center of the wall, between two of the standing lamps, a subtle, pale-blue symbol faded into being. Pausing in front of the sigil, the lupine serpent leaned forward and touched his nose against the glowing mark, and as Grief watched, the wall melted away, revealing shelves of books, scrolls, crystals, and strange devices with floating orbs revolving around them or strangely-fluid auras about them. Smiling to himself, the critter took a seat on his pudgy rump, holding the basked in his forepaws as he nosed the lid open, tail coming around to start sorting new crystals out from the container.
Grief let out a quiet gasp as the magically-sealed wall opened up, revealing the strange artifacts. The dragon was expecting someone quite large to come through the doorway when he heard those loud footsteps earlier; turns out, this someone was large in other ways, as evident by that hanging paunch. For a moment, Grief was starting to believe he had the wrong location; there was no way this doughy dog was a powerful mage!
However, the shining crystals and orbs said otherwise.
The dragon’s understanding of technology was archaic at best, but even he could notice the difference between what was anthro science and what was magic. Sitting upright, Grief cleared his throat. He ran a few simulations in his mind and planned out his escape several times over, just in case this feral was, well, feral. Granted, he could surely outrun the tubby lupine even at his diminutive size. “Aaron, I’ve come to bargain!” He exclaimed, still perched on top of the large reliable fridge.
The snolf let out a yelp of surprise, fumbling with the basket in his paws after his startled jump, before clutching the crystal-filled container to his chest as he turned his head to look over his shoulder, pudgy folds forming along his neck. It took Aaron a moment of glancing around, before his eyes landed on the dragon sat perched on his fridge, the wizard blinking in surprise for a second or two, before a grin spread over his muzzle. "Aww, hey there, lil' guy! I'll be right with you," the lykophis said, taking a moment to settle the crystals he'd removed from his basket back in among the others, setting the collection down on a shelf before getting to his paws. As Aaron padded toward the fridge, the shelves behind him obscured as the clay wall seemed to melt back into being while the snolf padded forward, only to pause when he noted the dragon seeming to tense at his approach.
Smiling as reassuringly as he could, the serpent took a seat in the middle of the den, allowing Grief a respectful amount of space between them. "Now, what can I do for you?" Aaron asked, long tail coiling around himself, the fluffy tip swaying back and forth at a relaxed pace.
“Lil’ guy?” Grief mimicked, growling at the over-familiar tone the snolf took with him. He was a mountain dragon, the mightest of his race, and he stood as tall as he could to show it. His pitch black scales glistened in the lamplight, accentuated by a spiral of sapphire blue that ran along his thick and powerful limbs. His furry grey tail, while not nearly as long as the snolf’s, could still wrap around his body easily. Currently, he used it to hide his equally soft and fluffy midsection, which, while being slightly rounder than was typical for his species, did an excellent job of keeping him warm.
He continued to glare at the snolf, narrowing his emerald eyes. “I have...come for your services, overfed mutt,” Grief growled, no longer finding it appropriate to call Aaron by his face name after being referred to as “lil’ guy' ' just then. “An impudent sorcerer was running amok in my forest, making a racket and disturbing me from my slumber, among other vile crimes. When I confronted him, he pointed his horrid staff at me and...defeated me. My once grand frame, taller than even the trees surrounding your vista, now reduced to the size of a pumpkin.”
While being the serious drake that he was, Grief was known to exaggerate once or twice. The “impudent” sorcerer was simply testing his spells where he thought he wouldn’t disturb anyone, and the shrinking spell was simply a mistake. In fact, it was the sorcerer himself who had offered the dragon to ask Aaron for advice on fixing the matter, but that wasn’t necessary information right now. Nor was it worth mentioning that Grief wasn’t as large as the surrounding trees, but then again, it would be nice to grow a few feet taller overall by the end of this traumatic experience.
Grief cleared his throat again, ruffling his wings. In his monologue, he had adapted a rather regal poise, sitting upright with his chest sticking out. “As such, I am here to request your service. Restore my height, and I promise no harm will befall you from myself.”
The snolf's head tilted slightly as he listened to the dragon's tale, taking in Grief's words and trying not to smile at the squeaky pitch of the little drake's voice, though he couldn't help the slight tugging at the corners of his mouth. Still, when the dragon finished, Aaron's expression had turned understanding, and he nodded as he looked Grief over, snake-like eyes seeming to glimmer slightly. "Hmm… yes, I think I can work up a countercurse," the ophidian wolf affirmed, allowing himself a smile as he reached up and tapped his chin in somewhat exaggerated thought, "Though, as you may have heard, my services aren't free. You want something from me, so you'll need to do something of equal value."
“That...is to be expected,” Grief chuffed, sitting himself upright. The idea of owing a service to another creature, anthro or feral, was quite repulsive to the miniature dragon, but owing a debt was even worse. But, he was willing to at least hear him out, perhaps even barter with the tubby snolf should his requests prove unreasonable. “Very well. State your demands.”
Aaron seemed to consider, humming as he regarded the dragon before him with a thoughtful expression. “Hm… can’t really ask someone your size to help with chores… or gathering crystals and herbs,” the snolf mused aloud, apparently missing the indignation the comments brought to the shrunken dragon, though that expression was tame compared to what came after the snolf’s own features lit up, and he proposed, “So, I guess you’ll just have to be my pet for a while! That would be a fitting payment, yes!”
“A pet?!” Grief practically exploded in anger at the very mention of that word. No longer minding his small size, the tiny drake leapt down from his perch and flapped his way in front of the snolf, scowling. “Who do you take me for?! Someone’s house cat? I am a proud and mighty dragon, with a lifespan far eclipsing your own! I am no one’s ‘pet,’ do you understand!” He snarled, marching forward as he roared at the snolf until he was face to face with the hybrid.
The ophidian lupine seemed unperturbed, an attempt at a placating smile on his features. “I mean no offense, really,” Aaron insisted, before gesturing around at the den, “Yet with my mate away on his own business, I get rather lonely. So, the most valuable thing you could offer me at the moment is the company of someone I can treat with a similar level of affection; in other words, a pet. Not permanently, just until you’ve paid for my service fully. That sounds reasonable, right?”
Grief snorted and turned away. “Let me consider it,” he spoke gruffly, his scowl still evident on his face. Anyone who relied on others was weak in the dragon’s eyes, for company or otherwise. Could this Aaron really be trusted to turn him back to his original size? When the snolf spoke, there wasn’t a hint of hesitation or deceit in his voice, only confidence and an annoying amount of gentleness.
The tiny dragon padded around the den, familiarizing himself with the layout of it. As much as he hated to admit it, the den looked quite cozy; far better than his own with its single grass nest. Even the temperature was a little warmer and nicer inside, compared to the somewhat chilly air outside. He was already getting used to walking on the plush carpet; a grand improvement over the stone floor of his own den. As he thought about it, the small drake realized he wasn’t being asked for much else; no labor, no services, just his time and presence.
“Very well, I’ll be your...acquaintance,” Grief spat that word out. He was still reluctant to ever say the word “pet.” The dragon walked back to the snolf. “How long until I’ve paid for your service?”
Apparently unbothered by the dragon’s choice of words, Aaron hummed as he trotted around the little wyrmling, snake-like tongue flickering while he sniffed at Grief from several angles, much to the drake’s bemusement. “Hm… that’s a pretty potent curse,” the snolf mused, his tone akin to a merchant appraising a piece of artwork, judging its value, before his muzzle split into a grin as he straightened himself, “Two months ought to cover it! That’s about how long I’d need to get the things for the countercurse, anyhow. So, lucky you, you get to be my new snuggle buddy until I get that pesky spell off of ya!”
Like a frightened cat, Grief stood with his haunches raised, carefully eyeing the fellow feral. He wasn’t thinking properly when he flew down to Aaron earlier; the snolf was even more massive up close! It was somewhat intimidating, being so close to a big, powerful, and very well fed predator like that, but he endured the sniffing. “Two months...I can last two months,” he muttered moreso to himself than to Aaron. “Very well. For the next two moons, I shall deem myself your snuggle buddy...whatever that entails.”
Aaron grinned again, nodding in satisfaction. “Deal!” the snolf said with finality, leaning his head down and nuzzling Grief’s side softly, “Now, you look like you could use some time to just relax, after all you’ve been through. Why don’t you get yourself comfortable and I’ll get you some food?”
The serpent didn’t wait for an answer, straightening himself and gleefully waddle-trotting his way into the kitchen, long tail trailing along the drake’s side on the way by. “I’m gonna guess you like meat, yeah?” the snolf said, glancing back at the dragon, “Does meatloaf sound nice to you~?”
“Meatloaf?” Grief asked, shuddering as he felt the fluffy tail brush along his flanks. Dragon’s were solitary creatures, after all; he wasn’t familiar with the touch of another fur, and had come to associate any contact as negative. The tiny dragon was understandably quite confused at the softness behind the brushing, as well as the nonchalant way Aaron did so. This snolf was a very strange creature indeed.
Rather than heed the snolf’s advice, the small drake followed closely behind the larger feral, sitting himself around the end of the kitchen. Wrapping his fluffy tail around his legs, Grief watched with wide, curious eyes, eager to watch the snolf in action. “Show me how you procure this ‘meatloaf,’ wizard.”
Aaron smiled as the dragon approached, getting to work preparing the ingredients for the meal, while his long tail gently curled around the dragon in a loose embrace, making sure to be gentle to avoid spooking the obviously-perturbed drake. The lykophis hummed a cheerful little tune while he worked, pausing whenever he passed the little wyrm to lean down and nuzzle at Grief’s side or wing, flashing one of his friendly, goofy smiles, before getting back to work. The dragon’s pulling away from those overt cuddles seemed to do little to deter the snuggly serpent, either completely missing the signals of objection, or deliberately ignoring them; judging by the seemingly-oblivious nature of the lupine, either one seemed equally likely.
Soon, the snolf’s work filled the den with a meaty aroma, the breaded meat coming together into a loaf the size of a large turkey, before being slipped into the oven to finish preparing. “There! Now, just gotta wait for it to bake, and dinner is ready,” Aaron chirped, sitting with a big, proud grin on his muzzle, looking to Grief happily, “Want something sweet in the meantime? I’ve got tons of snacks!”
At this point, Grief had given up trying to shrug off or shy away from the tail’s smothering embraces. There wasn’t much else he could do other than bite that tail, which would no doubt lead to a fate worse than being shrunk. Instead, he focused intently on the way the snolf kneaded the meat together; why Aaron was rolling food with other food before sticking it into that strange metal box instead of just eating it was beyond the dragon.
Just looking at the raw meat made Grief feel quite peckish; the dragon perking up at the offer as snacks. Again, he wasn’t sure why he had to wait for the meat to bake. Perhaps his patience was being tested? “I...would like some snacks, yes.” The dragon nodded, grunting as that tail rubbed against his head again.
Aaron smiled as he moved to the cupboards, nosing open one that was lower to the ground and pulling a batch of home-made brownies from the interior, lifting the tray up and settling it on the counter. Judging by the squares missing from the pan, the snolf had enjoyed his own handiwork already, taking two more squares from the batch and setting one on the counter, before nosing through his cupboards to find a bowl to put the second in. That done, the snolf turned and leaned over, setting the confection down on the ground in front of Grief and nosing it close to the dragon, apparently oblivious to the fact that the brownie was at least half the size of the drake himself. “There! That should be a nice snack for ya while dinner cooks,” he purred, beaming happily to the wyrm below him.
Grief took a moment to sniff at the strange brown square, trying to process that this was, in fact, food. It smelled nothing like any meat the drake had ever sniffed, although the sweetness did vaguely remind him of the fruits he had eaten in the past. He was skeptical, but looking at the snolf’s kind smile reminded him that he was indebted to this wizard. For now, at least.
Carefully, Grief bit off a small corner, rolling the chocolatey bite in his tongue. “It’s...soft,” he muttered to himself, trying to gauge this new experience for himself. Soft...and sweet. He took another bite, this one larger, and rolled that one around as well, trying to discern its strange taste and texture. Unfortunately, that bite was quickly swallowed before Grief could get a good feel for it, and so he took another bite...and then another...and then another.
Soon, the dragon was greedily gobbling down mawful after mawful of the rich and sweet brownie, hardly processing at all what he was doing. There was no rhyme or reason to it; that brownie tasted good! He had completely forgotten about the meatloaf at this point, fixated on this amazing new treat being presented to him, only taking a break halfway through the large brownie to lick his crumb-stained muzzle.
The dragon’s host smiled as he watched, and Grief found that long tail gently brushing against his side as he gobbled down the treat. “Good boy,” Aaron purred, already settling into his new role as the drake’s owner and caretaker. After all, this wasn’t his first such arrangement, judging by how quickly he’d come to this particular method of payment from the dragon. “I have more, if you’d like,” the snolf offered, flashing a sharp-toothed grin to his new companion, “You seem like you’re really enjoying that!”
"Hmmf," the dragon snorted indignantly, swallowing up his current mouthful. For a moment, he had lowered his guard due to being caught off from the delicious chocolatey treat, which was no doubt magically enhanced to entice his senses. What's worse, he had found himself actually leaning into the gentle strokes of the serpent's tail! He was a dragon! A proud and solidary creature, even as he continuously licked his muzzle for any trace remains of the brownie. "It's...unusual. But not too terrible, I suppose." He snorted.
Aaron chuckled at the begrudging reply, laying down on his middle, before rolling onto his side, plump belly facing the little dragon and giving a broad, friendly grin. “Just one of the many treats a pet of mine gets to enjoy!” the serpent stated a paw reaching out to gently stroke Grief’s head, only to pause when the wyrm pulled back from the limb, glaring at the claws with evident distaste. “Now, now, you agreed to this,” Aaron chastised gently, smiling as he gestured to the drake, “Part of being a pet is letting your caretaker groom you. And you look like you could use it, after what you’ve been through!”
"I'm perfectly capable of grooming myself, I'll have you know," the dragon muttered in disdain. He couldn't comprehend why someone would go out of the way to care for someone who wasn't their own young, especially when Grief was supposed to be in debt to the larger creature. Alas, Aaron was right; he DID agree to this. With a sigh, he stepped forward and lowered his head, letting the snolf's chubby paw stroke his shaggy bleached-blond mane and stubby black horns.
Smiling as the drake relented, Aaron scooted a bit closer over the tiled floor, running his claws gingerly through Grief’s mane. In spite of how much bigger the lupine was, his movements were surprisingly delicate, those blunt claws tenderly working small snags and tangles out of the drake’s hair, all while cooing and purring in fawning adoration. Awkward as it was for the dragon, he bore through it, true to his word, though that didn’t stop him from grumbling and frowning the whole time.
Luckily for the dragon’s wounded ego, the snolf perked up at the subtle “ding!” given by the stove, grinning as he got to his paws and fetched a muzzle-shaped oven mitt from the drawer beside the stove. Carefully, the oversized canine pulled the meatloaf from the oven, setting the tray on the counter and taking in an exaggerated breath through his snout, before sighing in approval and grinning down to his new pet. “Just gotta wait for it to cool off, then dinner is served!”
Curiosity piqued the dragon's interest as the whole room smelled rich and meaty. As if forgetting his brownie-stuffed belly, the dragon took off at a running start, flapping his powerful wings and soaring onto the tall counter. Puffing from the effort (he was somewhat bloated, after all), the tiny Grief carefully padded towards the heated loaf of meat, his nostrils twitching. "Interesting...I'm starting to see why your belly is so large."
Far from offended, the snolf simply grinned cheekily as his tail patted the side of his paunch. “Not hard to enjoy food when you’re good at cooking!” he said with a hint of pride, his attention turning to the meatloaf as he seemed to concentrate for a moment. In the blink of an eye, the loaf of beef split into multiple sections, as though invisible blades had carved it up into thick slices, ready to be served up onto plates. Which the snolf promptly did, his muzzle gesturing and causing one of those juicy slices to hover up onto a small platter, before sliding it toward the dragon with a grin as he crooned, “Another treat for the mighty dragon~”
Unfortunately, Grief was not as amused of the snolf's magic tricks, having leapt back and hissed once the meatloaf started moving on its own. Only once the pile of meat finally settled on his plate did the dragon finally pad his way back, inspecting his meal. Despite looking similar to the wedge of chocolate, it smelled quite different. The meat had been seasoned, making it difficult for even the drake's sharp sense of smell to detect what animal it was from. It was unusual, strange, a cause for concern for Grief.
But one bite completely changed his mind.
Grief tore into the meatloaf just as he did the brownie, his slitted green eyes wide with shock. It was good! Too good! He couldn't stop himself from eating, only taking a break to gasp and pant due to the excess heat, puffing out steam before delving right back in. His filling stomach no longer concerned him, even as it rounded and tightened out with even more food!
As the dragon ate, Aaron sat nearby, that same adoring, fond smile glued to his muzzle, watching the drake’s flanks bow outward with each ravenous bite. When it looked like Grief would finish off the first slice of meatloaf, another hovered over to settle on the dragon’s plate, the snolf purring softly as he leaned in and nuzzled at his pet’s side. “I take it the meatloaf is to your liking?” the lykophis crooned affectionately, smiling as his muzzle brushed against the fur of the shrunken dragon’s underside, “You have lovely fur, by the way~”
The dragon grunted, a stifled burp escaping his muzzle. “It’s...interesting. The food, I mean, not my fur,” Grief quickly stated, clearing his throat. So full of food, the drake settled himself in his spot, tucking his legs beneath his stretched furry stomach as he ate. Being reminded of his soft underbelly, the reptile let out another snort. “My fur is a necessity. My kind live on the peaks of the highest mountains, where it is essentially eternal winter. It’s imperative our fur stays thick to survive the harsh conditions. We go through what you ferals would consider hibernation, with the exception that we don’t enjoy the luxury that is *hic* spring time.” Perhaps it was the hours of flying and his overstuffed stomach that made the dragon sleepily ramble on as he did, the dragon speaking more in that moment than he normally spoke at all to any other creature. He was getting quite sleepy, his eyelids starting to droop, even as he continued to nibble and pick at his meatloaf.
Aaron listened to the dragon with a look of interest, another smile crossing his muzzle as he reached up to gently brush his claws through the drake’s belly fur. “I bet you cut quite the impressive figure against all that snow,” the snolf hummed, before flashing a toothy smile, “If it’s any consolation, I think you still bear your draconic majesty, even at this size!”
Playful as the snolf was, it seemed his words were earnest, at least in this instance, bearing a happy smile on his face as his other paw came up to caress the other side of Grief’s middle, rubbing the dragon’s stretched stomach soothingly. “Is this gonna be enough food for you?” Aaron purred, leaning in to get a look at the drake’s face.
“Flattery will earn you no favors with me,” the dragon snorted, letting out another stifled burp. He was getting tired; Grief closing his eyes to let out a big wide yawn. Unbeknownst to him, a little squeak escaped his lips as he did so, the dragon smacking his chops of any leftover meatloaf. “And this is...sufficient food,” Grief hiccuped, yet again reaching for yet another bite, having to practically drag himself closer with that overstuffed middle weighing him down.
The snolf grinned wide, no longer able to resist the cuteness on display, and gently slipped his paws under the dragon’s middle, getting a squeaky gasp of surprise as he lifted Grief up against his chest, cradling the dragon in an arm. In spite of the very verbal objections and high-pitched growls of protest, Aaron simply hummed softly as he took the meatloaf from the counter, holding it to the dragon’s muzzle and giving a fond smile. “Shh, just relax~” the snolf purred, gently swaying Grief against his chest, “Part of being a pet is letting your caretaker spoil you, so just rest and let me take care of you~”
“I don’t consent,” Grief growled, but offered little in terms of resistance. He was simply too full and bloated and, much to his dismay, comfortable. He laid there, silently fuming, a little ball of fur, scales, and hatred. With more meatloaf being presented directly before his muzzle, however, the tiny dragon found himself too busy eating to give criticisms or insults. He was still, silently cramming even more delicious food into his very overstuffed belly, which let out a few gurgled complaints, letting the snolf rock and pet him like a tiny pet. His growling and grumbling died down, replaced with tiny hiccups and burps; every time he opened his tiny maw, he found more meatloaf gently pressed into it. Soon, the overfed dragon couldn’t keep up and finally admitted defeat, slumping back against the snolf’s soft chest and falling asleep, a few tiny snores and snorts mixing with the gurgles of his stomach.
Aaron tittered softly as he saw the dragon nod off, popping the rest of the meatloaf into his muzzle and getting to his paws, walking three-pawed over to the bed at the other end of the den. With utmost care, the snolf climbed into the circular nest, taking a moment to get settled on his side, before hugging the sleeping dragon in against his chest like a scaly, bloated teddy bear. Cozy and pleased, it didn’t take long for the snolf to join in the dragon’s impromptu nap, sleepily nuzzling at the top of Grief’s head even as he slept.
With all that food in his belly, Grief was completely knocked out. He didn’t stir or react to any of Aaron’s squeezing and cuddling, which was certainly a blessing for the snolf who simply wanted a cuddle buddy. He was out cold, snoring slightly as he slept for hours and hours on end.
When he did finally come to, the dragon was startled to find himself in the loving embrace of the fat hybrid. Growling in annoyance, Grief tried wiggling his way to freedom without alerting his caretaker, but to no avail. He simply couldn’t squeeze his way out from amidst those claws, not without making a ruckus, that is. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite aware of what rules and boundaries came with being a pet; was he supposed to lie still and wait for Aaron to wake, or could he free himself and explore. Fidgeting with nervousness, the drake carefully rolled over until he was facing the snolf, his warm breath washing over the hybrid’s snoot.
That moist snout started to twitch, along with the whiskers on the snolf’s muzzle, the lupine giggling softly in his sleep, before the dragon found himself being pulled in against Aaron’s chest in a dozey, somewhat over-tight hug, letting out a soft “meep!” when Grief squirmed and growled in objection. Head lifting, the serpent blinked groggily as he looked down to investigate the wiggling form in his paws, the events of the previous day returning to mind as he found a rather grumpy-looking dragon glaring back up at him, the tiny form’s evident unamusement making the serpent grin with endearment. “Well, good morning!” the lykophis greeted happily, giving Grief a few light pats on the head, “How’s my new pet feeling after his little nap?”
The miniature dragon grunted with each pet, slinking away from the petting. It took all of Grief’s will power to not snap at that paw, although he did find himself talking through clenched teeth. “Just fine...just fine,” he muttered, before clearing his throat. Truth be told, it was a wonderful sleep; he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept on such a full belly, let alone on such a soft bed. It could have been the best sleep he had received in any lifetimes were it not for the overweight snolf holding him so close, but it was an adequate enough compromise, he figured.
Free from the snolf’s grasp, Grief leapt to the edge of the bed and sat, looking at the laying prone intently while curling his fluffy tail around his ankles. “What is today’s objective, snolf?” He asked matter of factly.
Aaron’s head tilted at the question. “Objective?” he repeated in a tone more akin to an oblivious puppy than a mighty spellcaster, before his features lit up in recognition, “Oh! You want to help out, I see! Well, what a good lil’ derg you are~”
Grinning, the portly snolf hefted himself up onto his paws, performing a very cat-like stretch and yawning wide, his back arching before he leaned forward, belly and chest both smooshing against the bed below and long tail coiling, before straightening himself with a big grin. “I dunno,” Aaron replied, looking around the den, “Things are pretty clean, no straightening up needs done… oh! How’s your nose? Good at sniffing things out?”
“It is. Quite good, in fact,” Grief, nodded. He did not break eye contact with his owner, although his gaze did glance downwards as he noticed the snolf’s middle pressing against the soft bed. Being asked about his acute senses did make the dragon swell his chest in pride, feeling redeemed in knowing that he could still prove useful even at his diminutive size. “May I ask what you need for my sensory skills? Perhaps you wish for me to help locate prey?”
“Oh, not prey, no!” Aaron replied, shaking his head as he stepped out of bed, pudgy flank brushing against the dragon on the way by. Padding over to the back wall of the den, the snolf nosed at the sigil that appeared at his approach, the barrier melting away while he glanced over his shoulder. “C’mere, lil’ buddy,” the serpent purred, nodding toward the hidden shelves, “If you can track down some of the herbs in here, we could go for a walk and you can help me sniff out these plants!”
“Plants... of course,” Grief muttered dejectedly. He shouldn’t have been surprised; the small dragon couldn’t even catch a squirrel at his size. With a sigh, he strode forward, rearing onto his hindlegs and leaning against the wall to get a better look and smell at the plants. “What herbs should I track?”
The hybrid smiled at the endearing sight, taking the basket he’d brought home the previous day in his maw and lowering it to the ground for Grief to see into more easily, though the shrunken dragon still had to pull himself up against the side of the container to get a look inside. “Nightshades, mints, mushrooms, whatever you think you’d be able to help me track down,” Aaron said, nosing at the herbs within the basket, mixed in between crystals that seemed far too common and cloudy to be worth much to a jeweler, yet if the drake had to hazard a guess, the snolf likely had a good use for such things.
Standing on his hind legs and leaning into the basket, the dragon took a few whiffs. He was relieved to discover his impressive sense of smell wasn’t hindered at his diminutive size; it only took a few sniffs to properly discern the three different scents he was supposed to be tracking. The smells were so strong, Grief was actually considering taking a nip out of the mint leaf. A shame the crystals didn’t have much a scent on them; otherwise he would have offered to search for those as well.
“I could help you locate these,” the dragon stated matter of factly. “I have no prior experience gathering herbs, but this shouldn’t be a problem to a dragon such as myself.”
“Attaboy,” Aaron purred, placing the basket back in its place, before pulling an empty one from the shelves, transferring the container to the coils of his tail and smiling down to the dragon, “First things first, though, we ought to get lil’ old you some breakfast! How about some bacon and eggs, tough guy?” The question seemed rhetorical; at least, it definitely looked that way, since the snolf was already halfway to the kitchen before he’d even finished his inquiry.
“What’s an ‘Attaboy?’” Grief asked, before shaking his head. This snolf was weird; he wouldn’t be surprised if half the words that spilled from the hybrid’s mouth were just nonsense. Bacon, for example, sounded like another made up word to the dragon, but he was aware of what eggs were, and suddenly found himself feeling quite famished. With a flick of his tail, the little dragon followed his owner towards the kitchen, sitting in his previous spot so as to better observe Aaron once again.
“Oh, it’s a shortening of ‘that’s a good boy’,” Aaron explained while padding into the kitchen, setting the basket down at the end of the counter and freeing his tail to fetch ingredients from the cupboards. “And a helpful pet like you is definitely a good boy!” the hybrid crooned happily, setting out a frying pan for the meat and eggs that his tail pulled from the refrigerator, a wave of cool air washing briefly over the dragon from the tall, alabaster box. Setting a slab of pork on the counter, the snolf gave a gesture over it with his muzzle, thin strips of meat cutting away from the main mass as though carved off with unseen knives, while his tail cracked eggs against the side of the pan, followed by salt, pepper, and other spices that had an aromatic smell drifting down to the dragon below.
Yup. Nothing Aaron said made sense. He was a good boy, then a ‘lil old you’ the next. Grief gave up trying to make sense of the snolf, and instead tried making sense of his caretaker’s method of preparing meals. The minute the frigid air washed over him from the strange black box, the dragon realized not even that made sense. However, being a mountain dragon and used to chilly climates, he wondered if he could perhaps find a way to sneak into the fridge and make off with a few snacks of his own sometime.
The minute the bacon and eggs released their scent, however, the dragon immediately forewent any thought of eating whatever cold and hard food was hidden within the fridge, only wanting a bite of whatever was cooking! His middle growled, the dragon leaping and flying onto the counter eagerly, eyes wide as he stared intently at what was soon to be breakfast.
A grin crossed Aaron’s muzzle as he found the counter occupied by his shrunken companion, tail coming up and gently brushing Grief’s back. “Aww, someone looks hungry!” the serpent tittered, leaning in and nuzzling the drake’s side softly, “I’d better make sure I make enough for you, then~”
As soon as those words left the snolf’s mouth, the dragon saw more slices of meat peeling up from the main slab, hovering into the pan alongside the rest, while another pair of eggs tapped themselves against the side of the dish, depositing their contents in amongst the rest of the meal. “Hm… missing a little something… oh!” Aaron perked up, looking toward his fridge as his tail wrapped around the handle, tugging open the door and pulling out some grated cheese. Adding a sprinkle of the dairy to the eggs, the serpent gave another grin while he plated up a pair of servings onto plates, sliding one over to the dragon, Grief’s own serving seeming just as big as the snolf’s, “There you are, lil’ buddy! Nums to nom for your tiny tum!”
Grief didn’t even bother to dignify what Aaron had just said with a response. He didn’t even know where to begin, but from the sound of it, he was finally ready to eat. Wrapping his tail around his ankles, the pint-sized drake settled himself down, taking a few hesitant bites of the bacon. Once again, Grief was caught off guard by the explosion of flavor in his mouth, letting out a pleasured growl. Since when was meat this flavorful? He could do without the grease, perhaps, but everything else was...fantastic!
And the eggs! He took a large chomp out of those as well, not at all surprised to find a treasure trove of flavor behind that pillowy texture. The strange spices Aaron sprinkled on top of them seemed to only enhance that flavor! How was that possible? Shifting closer towards his meal, the dragon continued to eat with gusto, purring all the while.
Involved as he was with his breakfast, Grief took little notice of the snolf that watched him with an adoring smile. Sidling over, the serpent’s paws came up and ever-so-gently brushed against the side of the dragon’s fuzzy middle while Grief ate, getting a low chuff of annoyance from the drake, though he rather begrudgingly allowed the soft caressing. He’d accepted by now that he’d need to tolerate the ophidian wolf’s overly-cuddly nature; besides, it wasn’t as though the gentle stroking felt bad…
Before he knew it, Grief had managed to finish off nearly half of the meal that had been slid before him, and it was around that point that fullness began to hit the drake. With a few more nibbles, the dragon leaned back, huffing softly in satisfaction, a glance over his shoulder revealing the far-too-close muzzle of his caretaker, grinning toothily while gently nosing at the side of his midsection. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you enjoy my cooking~” Aaron purred, giving the wyrm’s soft belly a gentle lick as he purred in affection.
The dragon shuddered slightly from the sudden lick, but did little else to protest the affection. He was quite comfortable, after all; a warm meal in his belly did wonders for his typical stone-cold expression. Grief wasn’t smiling, by any means, but he wasn’t scowling as well, which was quite an improvement. “It’s...interesting, to say the least,” Grief admitted, stifling a quiet burp. “I’m curious how you learned your craft. Your…’cooking’ technique looks like something an anthro would do.”
As much as Grief despised anthros, he couldn’t deny that their food was simply divine. Even now, with his belly round and taut with a warm meal, the dragon thought about when his next course would be. Full and sluggish, the tiny wyrm carefully looked over the counter, suddenly not looking forward to hopping down and marching around the forest with his caretaker.
Seeming to catch the dragon’s look of uncertainty, Aaron smiled as he nuzzled Grief once more, before his tail came up and gently wrapped around the dragon. Though protesting with a soft growl at first, the sound was ignored as the snolf lifted Grief to his back, letting the drake rest between his shoulders. “I do business with anthros frequently, and agreed to perform a service for a chef once in exchange for her teaching me how to cook,” the snolf explained, looking back to the little form resting on his back with a warm smile, “As you probably guessed, I don’t accept payment in the form of money for my services; I much prefer the exchange of favors over dirty old coins!”
Tail curling around his basket once more, the lykophis gave the dragon a grin. “And your own payment has been very pleasant so far~” he purred, rubbing his cheek against Grief’s side, “Want to ride there while we head out, lil’ buddy?”
Grief wasn’t exactly at ease laying on the back of someone else, let alone the snolf he owed a favor to, but he didn’t complain. He was still feeling slow and sluggish, so perhaps a little ride wouldn’t be a bad thing. “For now, perhaps,” the dragon muttered, his wings still raised un easily. At least the snolf’s back was wide and plush.
It felt weird for Grief to be giving orders to someone he was indebted to, but he soon found it quite fun! “Slow down, turn right. Behind the Oak,” the dragon commanded, watching as Aaron was rewarded with a few mushrooms growing out from the base of the tree. It was somewhat empowering, commanding a beast several times his size; perhaps not as empowering as actually being several times his size, but it was the next best thing, in the dragon’s opinion.
Once his stomach had settled, Grief carefully flapped down beside his owner and lead the search himself. The pace went much slower, as the small dragon’s legs couldn’t match the lengthy stride of his chubby companion, but it was still better than being carried like a helpless whelp. Besides, he thought, this way Aaron wouldn’t be constantly rubbing his tail against the small dragon, although he was soon proved wrong as the snolf would occasionally loom over him to preen his blond mane. There was just no escaping the snolf’s constant affection, it would seem.
With the help of Grief’s keen sense of smell, it was only a few short hours later when Aaron’s basket was full to the brim with herbs, a bright grin on the snolf’s muzzle as they made their way back toward the serpent’s den. The hybrid allowed his pet to lead the way; it seemed to boost the drake’s mood being able to take the initiative, and it meant he got to watch the adorable way the little wyrm waddled around his tubby middle. Though notably less distended, it seemed like some of those calories had decided to stick around, padding out Grief’s waistline and flanks in plump pudge. It wasn’t a dramatic difference, yet it was enough for the snolf to tell that his cooking was having exactly its desired effect.
“So,” Aaron started as the pair ducked into his home, smiling down to the dragon warmly, “Why don’t you take yourself a nice rest, you’ve definitely earned it! I’ll get you some lunch, and a little surprise, as well~”
Grief didn’t need to be told twice. It was quite the lengthy walk for the tiny dragon, even considering he spent part of it riding the snolf’s back. He quickly padded onto the carpet and over to the cushions, before settling himself beside one of them. Finally off his feet, the small dragon let out a big, silent yawn. He couldn’t help but feel quite proud of how productive his day was. If Aaron was true to his word, then Grief was one step closer to finally reclaiming his own size. He allowed himself a brief smug look, leaning further into the cushions. He was more than satisfied watching the snolf work from his position for now.
Smiling at the endearing sight from the kitchen for a moment, Aaron turned and got to work, the dragon hearing as dishes and ingredients were gathered. Soon, the scent of burgers wafted out to the little drake, and in his tired, somewhat dozey state, it seemed like no time at all before he found a plate being settled before him, a tall, broad hamburger with several toppings and dressings forming what looked like a veritable hill of food from the dragon’s perspective. “Such a good, helpful pet deserves a big, tasty treat,” Aaron purred as he settled down beside the wyrm, a small, black collar held in his paw, “And a badge of honor for such dedicated service, as well!”
All those compliments made the dragon’s chest swell with pride. Only a day in, and he was already doing great work! He was still unnerved at how fond the other feral was of inhabiting his personal space, something he was certain he could never fully grow accustomed to, but he could at least tolerate it for the time being. Soon, he would be his normal size yet again, Grief could fly far, far away...although, maybe coming back for a snack or two once in a while wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Speaking of snacks, Grief took an eager bite out of his burger, no longer trying to sample the meat before diving right in. As expected, his taste buds immediately died and went to heaven, the drake delighted to discover the burger tasted similar to the meatloaf he devoured last night, only with a different texture. Grief had scarfed down three big mouthfuls of meat before finally noticing the black collar, frowning. “What is that?” He asked, leaning away in apprehension.
Aaron’s head tilted at the question, before smiling as he brought the collar in closer for Grief to get a better look at. “It’s a collar; a way for a pet’s caretaker to show that they’re proud of their pet!” the snolf said with a bright grin, “Displaying their name in a show of approval and affection, and I’d say after that outing, you’ve more than earned it~”
The dragon was still apprehensive, sniffing the collar nervously. Judging by the size of it, the ring was supposed to go around his neck; a very vital spot that Grief was very hesitant of anyone touching. All instincts told the dragon to bolt out while he could and to never look back. In fact, he would have done just that if Aaron had presented him with the collar just the other day.
But after living with the snolf for a day, after experiencing the delicious food and gentle affection he was forcibly showered with by the hybrid, Grief figured the least he could do was to give his caretaker the benefit of the doubt.
“If it hastens my inevitable regrowth, then so be it,” the dragon growled, tensing up as his caretaker carefully slid the collar past his snout and onto his neck, tightening it slightly until it was snug around his neck. Once Aaron had the collar secured (which also came with plenty of head pets and nuzzles) the dragon continued his delve into his meaty meal, trying to put the collar out of his mind. Plenty of food, warmth, and shelter until Aaron finally decided to regrow him? Grief chuffed; he could get used to this.
He certainly did grow used to this. Grief didn’t even flinch when he found himself waking up in the arms of his caretaker; every morning started off with him forcibly snuggled against the snolf in some way, feeling his side squeeze into the snolf’s squishy squishy flanks as if he were just another enormous cushion. The dragon was starting to tolerate the hybrid’s constant nuzzling much better; in fact, on any normal circumstance, he would have tried falling asleep yet again in his owner’s embrace. However, a growing sense of unease had been festering within his mind, one that spurred him to carefully shrug his way out of Aaron’s embrace and off the bed.
To put it simply; Grief had it too good. He was supposed to be indebted to Aaron, to be his personal servant in exchange for his previous size, and he was practically treated like royalty! Aside from helping the snolf sniff out some herbs or fetch an item or two, Grief never had to lift a claw! Aaron was there for every need he had - carrying him, grooming him, cleaning him, sheltering him, feeding him - oh man, was he fed!
Aaron had an obsession with keeping the drake well fed that rivled his constant nuzzling and cuddling! The serpent was always the first to suggest a snack break or a meal, always serving extra large helping to the dragon who couldn’t possibly finish such an enormous serving on his own. But Aaron liked to see if he could, often times offering to hand feed the bloated dragon, showering him with enough praise and warm food that Grief couldn’t resist just one more bite.
With all the warm food and lazing around, it came to no surprise when Grief started putting on weight. Before he met Aaron, the dragon was already bordering on chubby; now, he had surpassed chubby and was teetering towards tubby! This was apparent as the dragon’s gait had turned into a bit of a waddle, his legs spreading out to make room for his gut. That dome of a belly was shaped just like his caretaker’s: round and jiggly, hanging by his knees on the rare times it wasn’t filled with fattening food. His broad back now had a bit of bounce to it when he waddled, his angular face looking more cerubic and soft, even his limbs and thighs were padded and soft to the touch. Even his collar, which was almost a little loose the day he first adorned it, was now fitting quite snug against his neck, digging in slightly into the chub. He was a very well-fed drake.
Despite his sudden gain, Grief was hardly concerned with how heavy and broad he was growing. In a way, he figured this was part of Aaron’s method of helping him reclaim his current size, although he did wish the growth was a bit more..uniform. Feeling his legs brush against his hanging gut only made the dragon feel more anxious; his master was doing so much for him, and Grief was offering little in return! What if it was a trap; a test to see if he would prove useful on his own or if he needed the guidance of others to show his worth?!
Heart racing with anxiety, the dragon soon lumbered his way towards the entrance of the cave. Once off the carpet, he got to work dragging his fluffy tail along the ground, sweeping the floor like he had seen the serpent do before. It was time he started proving his worth, although with his small size and large cave, it may be some time before he finished properly sweeping. Nonetheless, the dragon persisted, his big rump bouncing as he wiggled and swept his tail along in broad strokes, the sound of sweeping filling the air, along with all the dust the drake was kicking up.
Those low sounds didn't seem to disturb the dreams of the snolf that rested in his bed, though his ears did twitch periodically when the little dragon was sweeping near his bed. The dust, however, was another story, Aaron's snout starting to wiggle slightly as particles settled on his nose, the bridge of his snout wrinkling for a moment as his eyes fluttered open briefly, head lifting and muzzle parting, before a loud sneeze woke the serpent up. Shaking his head, the ophidian pawed at his snout, glancing around in groggy bemusement until his gaze landed on the plump little wyrm that busied himself with removing as much of the dust from the den as he could, quiet huffs coming to the snolf's ears from the effort Grief put into cleaning.
"Aww! Look at you go," Aaron cooed in delight, grinning down at the dragon from his bed, "You really don't have to go out of your way like this, lil' buddy. But it's sweet seeing you do nice things for me~"
The little dragon sat down next to the bed after a few moments, huffing quietly. All that sweeping was exhausting, especially for someone of his size...and shape. Grief quickly shook his head, dust sprinkling out of his mane. "My aim is to finally convince you to help me regain my previous size. I believe this would help speed up the process of ah...aaah….CHOO!" The pudgy drake let loose a comically-squeaky sneeze, sniffling and rubbing his poor snoot against the edge of the bed to wipe off any dust.
Aaron couldn't help giggling at the adorable sound, puffing slightly as he pulled himself out of bed, taking a seat beside the wyrm and leaning down to gently nuzzle at the dragon's side. "You don't have to go through all the trouble, you know," the snolf said in a gentle tone, giving Grief a kind smile, "We already agreed on your payment, you don't need to convince me more. Besides, you're getting your lovely fur all dusty." The serpent reached a paw forward and gently brushed some of the dust out of Grief's tail fur, tutting softly and shaking his head, "Goodness, lil' buddy, you've gotten yourself all messy. I think it's time I gave you a bath~"
"A bath?" Grief repeated, flicking his dust-coated tail. He shouldn't have been surprised; he was practically covered in dust, his blackened scales almost as grey as the rest of him. The little dragon huffed and looked away, trying to hide his wounded pride. "V-very well. I shall clean myself in the nearby river," he prepared, turning towards the entrance of the cave.
That momentum was suddenly diverted when Grief felt lupine fangs gently gripping ahold of his scruff. The dragon gasped as his paws reflexively tucked up against himself, before letting out a stream of vitriolic objections as he was carried toward the kitchen. Aaron seemed completely oblivious to the high-pitched growls and squeaks of dismay from his pet as he happily trotted over to the sink, gently setting Grief into the bottom of the metal depression and licking his face affectionately. "I think you'll enjoy a bath here much better than the river," the snolf insisted, nosing at the knobs on either side of the faucet and starting up a stream of warm, steamy water, before smiling to the drake fondly, "Is this a nice temperature for you?"
Grief didn't respond right away, rather he sat there glaring daggers at the large lupine. "No one is to know of this. Understood?" He grumbled, his threatening demeanour undermined by his squeaky voice and roundish body.
With a sigh, the dragon sat and watched as the warm water lapped onto his paws, slowly filling the basin. A part of him had a moment's panic, but seeing as how he could easily climb out from the sink at any time, he figured he was safe from drowning. Oddly enough, the warm water was extremely pleasing to the touch, the dragon slowly settling himself lower into the water. "Yes, this is nice...I suppose." He added that last comment offhandedly, as if afraid to show positive emotion towards anything, yet it was hard to hide the happy rumbles as he leaned forward to try and lick from the faucet.
Aaron smiled again at the little dragon as he watched Grief relax, letting the sink fill up just enough for the water to lap over the drake's back, before bringing the water to a stop. Sitting on his haunches, the serpent reached over the sink and procured a few bottles of shampoos and ointments, starting to add them to the water. "You might want to avoid drinking the bathwater, the soap makes it taste bad," the snolf informed his pet, giving the dragon's chubby cheek another gentle nuzzle, before dabbing a few drops of shampoo onto his paws and setting his digits on Grief's shoulders. With gentle, tender movements, Aaron started to massage the soap across the dragon's scales, his digits working gently into the supple pudge of Grief's body, rubbing in circles down the wyrm's flanks, before kneading back up along either side of the drake's spine, repeating the pattern a few times while humming happily to the little dragon.
Grief tried to maintain his stern and rough complexion, but his icy glare gradually melted in the warm soapy waters around him. Overtime, the dragon’s eyelids grew heavier, and save for a few watery flicks from his wings and tail, the drake ended up completely still. Even more, he started purring! A week of staying with the overly-affectionate snolf had finally weakened his cautious and sensitive side. The constant groomings, nuzzlings, holdings; all of it made the dragon stop flinching every time the hybrid grew close to him. Having finally abandoned his typical fears and anxieties, Grief found himself actually enjoying the gentle scritching along his supple frame. He did his best not to show it on his face, but he loved the attention his dirty, heavy body got, even rubbing his chubby cheek against the snolf’s paw once on reflex!
Aaron paused as the dragon's soft face nuzzle against his pawpad, a wide grin spreading over his muzzle as he gently brushed the soap from the drake's cheek. "Such a good boy you are," the snolf purred, reaching into the sink and pulling the plug to let some of the water drain, "Now, time to get all that tum fluff clean. Roll over, boy~" The gentle command was accompanied by another toothy smile, the snolf plugging the sink again once the water level was halfway down the drake's limbs.
“I’ve told you before, my name isn’t boy,” Grief growled softly, flicking water at the snolf’s snoot with his wings. He wondered if it was customary for pets to be referred to their genders, rather than their names; if that’s the case, then how could one owner keep track of multiple pets? It was all too confusing for the dragon. Rather than think on it too hard, the miniature drake sighed and slowly rolled his barrel body to the side, revealing his very well-fed middle. Grief still stared at the snolf with wide eyes; his belly was quite sensitive, and that was something that would take more than a week of rubs and hugs to fix.
The serpent seemed to notice the dragon’s apprehension, giving a gentle smile to the little wyrm, before resting his paw over the drake’s middle, ever-so-gently combing his claws through the moistened fur. “I know, I know, but you’re just such a little cutie, I can’t help talking to you like you’re actually a little pet I can keep and spoil forever,” Aaron purred, carefully working the shampoo into Grief’s ventral fur, a grin coming over the snolf’s snout as he felt the supple pudge squishing under his digits, “And you seem to have taken very well to my pampering, after all~”
Grief frowned at those words, looking up at the snolf apprehensively. “That wasn’t the deal. I am to remain being your pet only as long as you deem necessary, until which you will allow me to regrow to my previous size. I will gratefully do whatever else is necessary to achieve that goal, but I will be none too pleased if I should discover you’ve been deceiving me this whole time.” The dragon couldn’t speak seriously enough to back of his words; after all, he was on his side in soapy water while his caretaker squeezed and kneaded his soft belly. He continued staring at the snolf unwavering, waiting for a response.
Aaron gave a soft giggle as he shook his head. “Oh, of course! I wouldn’t go back on my word like that; I simply mean I’ve been sincerely enjoying your company,” the snolf clarified, smiling back to the little dragon while he massaged the suds through Grief’s abdominal fur, perhaps kneading around more than was strictly necessary as he enjoyed how soft and doughy the drake’s middle felt. “You have my word, once your two month period is up, you’ll be back to your old size,” he said, before his smile turned a big impish, “Or perhaps, a little bigger, depending on how things go~”
“Bigger?” Grief repeated again, his eyes widening. He never once considered the possibility of growing beyond his previous size! Being the antisocial drake he was, Grief completely missed what the impish grin may have entailed as he leaned his head back to better regard the snolf, bunching up his neck rolls slightly. “You said depending on how things go, correct? What can I do to help you grow myself bigger than before?”
The serpent blinked for a moment, before another twinkle of mischief lit up in his eyes, though he quickly subdued the expression to give another of his gentle smiles. “Oh, well that’s quite easy,” Aaron replied, taking up a pawful of water and trickling it over the drake’s underside, rinsing the soap from Grief’s fur, “Y...
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Western Dragon
Gender Male
Size 120 x 80px
Listed in Folders
This was really sweet! I loved seeing Grief go from aloof and haughty to...well, still those things, but genuinely friendly and caring toward his new "owner". I suppose he's the owner in the end, though.
Not sure if Aaron is still Grief's owner, considering Grief pretty much decided to stay behind and let himself get pampered to immobility and beyond.
Grief is a big softie, no pun intended. He just needs someone to stick around with his rudeness before finally coming around.
Grief is a big softie, no pun intended. He just needs someone to stick around with his rudeness before finally coming around.
I meant that Grief is Aaron's owner by the end. Sorry if that was unclear, it just felt appropriate.
Thank you! It was a ton of fun for both of us to write! ^^
I finally got to finish reading this wonderful story and I loved it. This is possibly the only instances where Grief is nice. But when it comes to Aaron, he can make any beast into a blob of fat and sweetness.
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