It's well into the evening of yet another splendid royal party, with the music, drink and amazing food showing no signs of ebbing. You're reminded of the mental promise you'd made last time to pace yourself, in dining, drinking and dancing. And yet, with as lively as the music is, as festive and exciting the dancing; the night's barely halfway through, and you're sitting on one of the lovely palace garden benches, just to catch your breath. A lynx in a silken sarong passes by, her gait a serpentine sway of ample hips and softened middle as she slows to a stop in front of you, carrying a tray brimming with snacks, a full wine jug perched on her head. Already feeling full twice over, you shake your head and politely wave her on.
With the warmth of the lit braziers, even at night, there's little need to dress in much other than fur.

Good thing, too, as you're content enough to relax on the periphery of the biggest crowd of dancers, all of them clad in nothing other than gold to please the eye, among other things. The dancers are all shapes and sizes, and yet they've all been going strong throughout the night, showing off displays of stamina that suggest more than a few of the males were once dock laborers, having been brought into the royal fold, now, and blessed with prosperity.
Speaking of which... a familiar figure catches your gaze for an instant, and it takes a few moments to recognize that it is indeed him... months ago, he was a shy, timid, scrawny whelp, sorely lost amid the more experienced entertainers. Still, you remember how much he loved to eat, as he'd hover all night by the tables with the biggest buffet, filling his belly through the night, until he looked nearly pregnant. But now... clad only in a collar, bangles and a golden scarf, he's twice the wolf you remember. A confident grin on his muzzle, he moves as briskly as a deer in flight, even as his round paunch and wide, plump hips quiver with every step, bouncing as he bounds and twirls the golden scarf in his paws. It's almost impossible not to stare, as sleek and fat as his belly is, setting his fur into a ripple every time a sprightly hop finds the ground.
Out of the corner of one golden eye, he catches you looking, wide hips giving a smooth, deliberate sway that sets his full middle into a lazy wobble. Glancing away at being caught, you pretend your gaze was lingering elsewhere, looking around in embarrassment, only to realize he's right in front of you, now. One paw settles on the curve of his hip, fingers splaying through the dense, gray pelt.

"Surely, I can tempt you back on your feet with a private dance...?" You find that golden silk now draped over your shoulders, the ends in both his paws, giving a coaxing tug...

Thanks to  keihound for this doodle of our favorite fat wolf showing off those lovely curves for his admirers!