Seeking Sherwood - Epilogue - Dawn (Patreon)

Woot woot! As a little treat for myself I wrote up and illustrated an Epilogue for everyone's favourite nibbly girl Dawn! Dawn is one of my more recent characters but I love her to bits, and I hope you all enjoyed her inclusion in this story! 

So here it is, written and illustrated by myself, do let me know what you think <3

Characters/Owners:

Garth - Nackvixen 

Veronicas - Veronacus 

Temperance - Paris  

- - -     

That was close.

Dawn jerked back on the controls of her ship, pulling it away from the strange station and the new starships that had arrived. She hadn’t anticipated Garth pulling the trigger on the power relay, visions of the station exploding flittered through her mind as the drones clumped together to absorb the shot, and thankfully she was fast enough in cutting his access to the ship’s guns that he didn’t get a second chance. She saw the moment to avert a cruel fate for the Vice Regents followers and took it. They would leave the station in one piece.

The new ships slid coyly in, making short work of the station’s automated defences. As Dawn’s sleek vessel turned and her engines pushed her away, a voice seemed to bypass her ship’s communications console, speaking right to the implants in her head. 

Going somewhere? 

The sudden intrusion didn’t surprise Dawn, though the orange furred fox would be lying if she said it didn’t unnerve her to some degree. It felt perhaps a degree too familiar.

“This mess is all yours,” Dawn replied with a half-smile as the void of space opened up before her. She would be gladder than not to leave the Vice Regent and her plans behind. “I’m under orders for no direct interference.” And with that she slammed on the throttle. She already knew that Sherwood Fleet wouldn’t give chase, but there was a calm kind of reassurance, seeing it coalesce around the abandoned space station. 

Dawn stood up. The vixen had been getting chunky lately, it was hard for her not to hear the creaking of her flightsuit. An unexpected but delightful side-effect of the current timeline, she supposed, as she cradled her soft gut with both hands, fingers digging into the pliable flesh of her tummy through the black ribbon bandages that covered it. She had gained what had to be close to a hundred pounds already, just nibbling on her new morsel during their time together. She could almost sense him in the cargo bay. Confused, no doubt hungry. He would wait just a little while longer, as she walked across to a nearby desk, pulling an archaic deck of cards from a drawer set within.

The cards were quickly shuffled, four were drawn and laid out across the surface of the desk. Destiny had been swirling around Amourres and this day for a long time now, but its outcome had been undecided for so long. Dawn stood above the drawn cards, laid face down on the black plasteel desk before her. Amourres had sealed her own fate in one way or another for a long time now, treating lives as disposal, without regard for the fellow mortals whose brief existence in this life was dominated by her machinations.

Dawn flipped the first card. Death. The most simple fate for Amourres – she could have been choked by her slaves. Garth was the most likely to accomplish this – a well placed fall at some point in their journey and the rabbit might have easily suffocated the Vice Regent. A fitting end for her, but what of the others? Their fates would have been intertwined around this one act of vengeance, and the consequences that followed.

Pestilence. The second card showed a swarm of robots consuming the galaxy. This was the fate which Dawn was sent here to stop. A creeping death and unification that would spread like wildfire, leaving only the ashes of what was in its wake. 

Wrath. Upon the third card Amourres’ infatuation became insanity, she herself became a creature bent upon finding her Prince to the pain and detriment of all around her. Eventually her Prince would find and end this madness, but not before great suffering had been inflicted.

Dawn hesitated above the final card, her finger hovering above its surface. This was the destiny that she had helped sow. The conclusion to Amourres’ path her actions had woven into reality. She flipped the card and blinked – it was white, blank. The card had many names, but Dawn preferred to simply call it Change, and upon it, she saw countless futures. It was up to Amourres to find the best one for herself, now. 

For the briefest of moments, Dawn considered further intervention in Amourres’ life. Her tail swayed behind her as she thought about the many things that could become of the Vice Regent, and the many things she could herself become. But then her stomach rumbled, and she was reminded of the massively obese rabbit in the hull of her ship. She had her own garden to tend now, it seemed, and the grin with which she slid the cards back into the deck told her that she would have a lot of fun doing it... 

---

It had been a few weeks past the events of the abandoned station when Dawn found herself ambling down from her room towards the cargo hull of the ship. A few weeks, or a few months? Anyone else would have guessed the latter, as blubber spilled from every available inch of her frame. Her body now completely defied attempts to be clothed in her old flightsuits, no matter how much she tried to stretch them beforehand, so it was the best she could do to simply rebind herself every day in the black-ribbon bandages she wore. They did nothing to disguise the impact Garth had had on her. 

While Garth himself had become colossal, Dawn’s constant, nibbling affections had earned her three hundred more pounds, and a stomach that sagged from her waist all the way down her thighs to rest above her knees. Even in zero-G, her hands reaching out for the support struts on the walls, she found her movement more clumsy than usual. Gone was the lithe little vixen, replaced by a butterball by any regard. Her thighs rubbed together when she was able to walk, laden with cellulite beneath her bandages, and her upper arms had puffed up into soft, pillowy masses that rubbed against her cheeks when she went to reach for things above her. While was grateful for the reduced impact of gravity, there was a part of her which was also eager to feel everything sag and fold over itself with weight. She thought of her knees, where the blubber of her thighs was so thick it sagged over the once clear joint. A small thing, perhaps, but enough to make even a travelled girl like her blush to think about. 

The hatch to the cargo bay was wreathed in shadows, it clung a little to the hull of her tiny ship as she pulled on the handle and opened it, light falling on the mass within. While Dawn was by no means a master of the kind of abilities Mother controlled, she was within reason, able to expand the space of an area. A necessary thing, when its occupant was several tons heavy. Floating in the dark of her cargo bay, Garth was a massive planet of blubber and fur, so swaddled in his own fat that moving his fingers or toes must be a chore to achieve. Bending a limb; impossible. His gluttony had quickly outgrown her cargo bay as it was before, forcing her to expand its dimensions with a little trickery. He started to stir as the cool air from the opened hatch touched his mass, but it would be a little while before he woke. Time enough for another nibble. 

---

She shouldn’t have done it, deep down Dawn knew that. It had been a simple matter of creating the right glyphs, sigils that would allow her to track the Garths of other timelines, other realities. They would allow her to continue her feast, but she wondered whether she could. Whether she should.

Her stomach had become a massive beast, it brushed the floor of her cockpit, making movement all but impossible without reduced gravity. The gravid swell of fat swept out feet in front of her, coupling with her cheeks and breasts to obscure her view of anything beneath its horizon. And it hungered, constantly. Filling her with a need for the carnal, hedonistic pleasure that Garth had imparted upon her. It was a mass she constantly had to push past to manipulate the controls of her ship – at least until she switched implant control. And then she felt a strange sense of helplessness as she found her arms too big for anything but resting upon her massive gut. Her legs, likewise, had suffered a lot of the brunt of her gluttony. Even in zero-g environments, one needs powerful legs and arms to push from surface to surface. Hers were more like hams, conical sacks of blubber which struggled to be pushed apart or bend much at all. This reduced her movement in the ship to a slow waddle, made only possible by the support struts and hand-rails that lined its hallways. 

At her current weight, the vixen didn’t bother covering her body anymore, but she knew it would be an obstacle she would have to surmount should she fulfil her plan. She would either need to get back in shape, or look back in shape, at least temporarily. At least until she found another Garth to sate the burning hunger she felt at the pit of her very, very large stomach. But that was a problem for another time. For now, her pet was still chugging away in the hull of her ship, spending his days in blissful excess. She would spend them with him, for as long as she could fit through the hatch to her cargo bay, and then, a little longer. 

After that, she might need to call for some help.