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Artwork (Digital) / Fat Furs
Species Taur (Other)
Size 1500 x 1313
File Size 3.6 MB
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It was practically impossible to coax Aeneas out of his frosty oasis by the ski slopes for a trip more than a few miles away. One would think the half-owl became a middle-aged recluse like many of his old money brethren, but that couldn't be further from the truth. If anything, he opened up more and more as he sailed through his 40s, becoming a minor celebrity in the nearest village to his mansion while giving scores of guest lectures at the most esteemed music academies... through a webcam.
The issue keeping Aeneas in his roost was a simple matter of logistics: at thirteen feet tall with a ground-kissing gut and enough brawn to carry it, the griffin-taur was just too damn big for most forms of transport. Even so, one conference was determined to have the gentle giant grace their guest list. They offered Aeneas all of the usual perks: an upfront bonus for the speech, front row seats to all of the obligatory concerts, free room and board for the weekend. The sturdy scholar rebuffed their advances at first, apologizing in more flowery language every time.
Just when hope seemed lost, a particularly plucky vulture named Cleo suggested one last bonus to sweeten the deal: free food for the entire event, and unlimited at that. The rest of the board erupted into a fury over their suggestion, but they persevered, ringing their former classmate directly with the proposal. They knew Aeneas wouldn't resist the offer well before a startled hoot over the phone nearly blew out their ears.
And so, after a three-day trip from the mountains in a pair of eighteen-wheelers, Aeneas arrived at the most prestigious music history conference of the year, eager to devour all sorts of new knowledge... and as much food as he could possibly fit.
The griffin-taur spared no time rushing to the buffet down the block, grabbing the vulture to catch up on old times. In this case, 'catching up' meant listening to the unassuming bird prattle on about the politics of academia while gorging himself for eight hours straight. The smaller scholar was utterly mesmerized by the bottomless appetite on display, dishes blurring seamlessly from breakfast to lunch to dinner as their contents disappeared down that short, stubby beak. The glutton barely even registered that time was passing, taking the excuse to push his endlessly greedy stomach as close to its limits as he could.
Later that night, Aeneas waddled precariously down the aisle of a concert hall, attracting a few dozen stares with his incredible stature. A feathered belly wobbled beneath the confines of his flashiest suit-jacket up top while his fuzzier gut swayed to and fro under a luxurious gown on his bottom half. As usual, he barely felt any fuller than when he arrived, but the sloshes of those overstuffed tankards still drowned out the orchestra's tuning routine.
Cleo carefully guided the griffin-taur to the VIP section, making sure he didn't knock anyone over with a quartet of legs far taller and wider than themself. The vulture couldn't stop giggling when Aeneas took his seat, resting his side against eight designated chairs. They would've gladly leaned against the titan's flank like the softest, warmest sofa imaginable, just like the good old days... were it not for that pesky need to stay professional.
The griffin-taur tried his best to lose himself in the music, an expertly crafted program blending old and new, tonal and atonal, melodic and rhythmic. As he mulled over questions to ask the debuts' composers when he got the chance, though, his stomachs started to ache in a way they hadn't in quite some time.
The discomfort started in Aeneas's lower half, making his feline hind legs sprawl just a bit wider. He couldn't help but let out a low hiss when the odd feeling pressed against his powerful feral chest and shoulders. It slowly rose through the bridge between his bodies, like the pitch and tempo of the symphony unfolding in his ears. The sensation intensified while it sat in his upper gut, popping a button on his suit as his down stretched as taut as the timpani on stage. He tried fanning himself with one of his wing-arms as the pressure climbed up his chest, but to no avail. The scorching hot gas hit his throat just at the orchestra's climax, surprising him too much to cover his beak.
"BWOOOOOOOooooooouuurp!!!"
The music stopped well before the infernal burp was half-over.
The owl-griffin quickly spun his neck around, tossing his silver mane into a frenzy. Every last pair of eyes in the house was locked on him, whether they be on the stage or in the audience. Throughout the jam-packed venue, there was hardly a soul who wasn't at least bewildered by his calamitous belch, if not disgusted... or angered. The only remotely friendly face in the crowd was only three seats away: Cleo's long, jagged beak barely hid a giant grin at the corners of their mouth, their jet black wings jittering with delight.
After that brief survey, Aeneas slowly turned his head back to the dumbstruck conductor. There was little he could do but sheepishly wave at her, his back wings and tail folded inwards in embarrassment. He half-expected an usher to ask him to leave, but the only disturbance he got was someone forcefully handing him a bottle of Pepto-Bismol... one which he took a sip from for politeness's sake. Like everyone else in the hall, he heaved a huge sigh of relief when the concert resumed, starting from the top of the symphony.
As the orchestra played through the thunderous first movement once more, the griffin-taur patted his suddenly softer upper belly. The tips of his fingers sank through inches of thick feathers to reach the blubber below, making him coo as quietly as he could. If his stomach was still upset after the show, he knew one sure-fire way to get it back into shape: dessert. And he knew someone who'd be all too eager to help him get his fill.
So! Here's another fantastic sketch from
Sharpt00th, this time of my griffin-taur Aeneas. Sometimes it's hard to stay refined when you're a colossal eating machine, hehe. Decided to wait until I was in the mood to whip up a little more backstory for him before I posted this. Enjoy!
It was practically impossible to coax Aeneas out of his frosty oasis by the ski slopes for a trip more than a few miles away. One would think the half-owl became a middle-aged recluse like many of his old money brethren, but that couldn't be further from the truth. If anything, he opened up more and more as he sailed through his 40s, becoming a minor celebrity in the nearest village to his mansion while giving scores of guest lectures at the most esteemed music academies... through a webcam.
The issue keeping Aeneas in his roost was a simple matter of logistics: at thirteen feet tall with a ground-kissing gut and enough brawn to carry it, the griffin-taur was just too damn big for most forms of transport. Even so, one conference was determined to have the gentle giant grace their guest list. They offered Aeneas all of the usual perks: an upfront bonus for the speech, front row seats to all of the obligatory concerts, free room and board for the weekend. The sturdy scholar rebuffed their advances at first, apologizing in more flowery language every time.
Just when hope seemed lost, a particularly plucky vulture named Cleo suggested one last bonus to sweeten the deal: free food for the entire event, and unlimited at that. The rest of the board erupted into a fury over their suggestion, but they persevered, ringing their former classmate directly with the proposal. They knew Aeneas wouldn't resist the offer well before a startled hoot over the phone nearly blew out their ears.
And so, after a three-day trip from the mountains in a pair of eighteen-wheelers, Aeneas arrived at the most prestigious music history conference of the year, eager to devour all sorts of new knowledge... and as much food as he could possibly fit.
The griffin-taur spared no time rushing to the buffet down the block, grabbing the vulture to catch up on old times. In this case, 'catching up' meant listening to the unassuming bird prattle on about the politics of academia while gorging himself for eight hours straight. The smaller scholar was utterly mesmerized by the bottomless appetite on display, dishes blurring seamlessly from breakfast to lunch to dinner as their contents disappeared down that short, stubby beak. The glutton barely even registered that time was passing, taking the excuse to push his endlessly greedy stomach as close to its limits as he could.
Later that night, Aeneas waddled precariously down the aisle of a concert hall, attracting a few dozen stares with his incredible stature. A feathered belly wobbled beneath the confines of his flashiest suit-jacket up top while his fuzzier gut swayed to and fro under a luxurious gown on his bottom half. As usual, he barely felt any fuller than when he arrived, but the sloshes of those overstuffed tankards still drowned out the orchestra's tuning routine.
Cleo carefully guided the griffin-taur to the VIP section, making sure he didn't knock anyone over with a quartet of legs far taller and wider than themself. The vulture couldn't stop giggling when Aeneas took his seat, resting his side against eight designated chairs. They would've gladly leaned against the titan's flank like the softest, warmest sofa imaginable, just like the good old days... were it not for that pesky need to stay professional.
The griffin-taur tried his best to lose himself in the music, an expertly crafted program blending old and new, tonal and atonal, melodic and rhythmic. As he mulled over questions to ask the debuts' composers when he got the chance, though, his stomachs started to ache in a way they hadn't in quite some time.
The discomfort started in Aeneas's lower half, making his feline hind legs sprawl just a bit wider. He couldn't help but let out a low hiss when the odd feeling pressed against his powerful feral chest and shoulders. It slowly rose through the bridge between his bodies, like the pitch and tempo of the symphony unfolding in his ears. The sensation intensified while it sat in his upper gut, popping a button on his suit as his down stretched as taut as the timpani on stage. He tried fanning himself with one of his wing-arms as the pressure climbed up his chest, but to no avail. The scorching hot gas hit his throat just at the orchestra's climax, surprising him too much to cover his beak.
"BWOOOOOOOooooooouuurp!!!"
The music stopped well before the infernal burp was half-over.
The owl-griffin quickly spun his neck around, tossing his silver mane into a frenzy. Every last pair of eyes in the house was locked on him, whether they be on the stage or in the audience. Throughout the jam-packed venue, there was hardly a soul who wasn't at least bewildered by his calamitous belch, if not disgusted... or angered. The only remotely friendly face in the crowd was only three seats away: Cleo's long, jagged beak barely hid a giant grin at the corners of their mouth, their jet black wings jittering with delight.
After that brief survey, Aeneas slowly turned his head back to the dumbstruck conductor. There was little he could do but sheepishly wave at her, his back wings and tail folded inwards in embarrassment. He half-expected an usher to ask him to leave, but the only disturbance he got was someone forcefully handing him a bottle of Pepto-Bismol... one which he took a sip from for politeness's sake. Like everyone else in the hall, he heaved a huge sigh of relief when the concert resumed, starting from the top of the symphony.
As the orchestra played through the thunderous first movement once more, the griffin-taur patted his suddenly softer upper belly. The tips of his fingers sank through inches of thick feathers to reach the blubber below, making him coo as quietly as he could. If his stomach was still upset after the show, he knew one sure-fire way to get it back into shape: dessert. And he knew someone who'd be all too eager to help him get his fill.
So! Here's another fantastic sketch from
Sharpt00th, this time of my griffin-taur Aeneas. Sometimes it's hard to stay refined when you're a colossal eating machine, hehe. Decided to wait until I was in the mood to whip up a little more backstory for him before I posted this. Enjoy!
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fat Furs
Species Taur (Other)
Size 1500 x 1313px
File Size 3.6 MB
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