“Hmm- So, I don’t look like I’m from around here, aye? Well, I’m most versed in the local cuisine…”

Part of you knew you shouldn’t have said a thing to the odd, pink creature on the beach that day. It was clearly no ordinary semi-mortal unicorn - the color, strangely blowing hair, and odd glint in the eyes told you of it’s Fae origins and intentions clearly. But who had every heard of a Faerie lounging so far from the woods, beached right on a sandy shore?

You certainly hadn’t… then, you had been wholly unaware of just how much more powerful faeries were by the water - especially when it came to their powers of suggestion…

You just had to engage that tub of a trickster… And your fate was fully sealed. It took only a moment of talking with him to forget why you’d come here in the first place. Another moment, and you were already tromping off with his wobbly little self to experience the local cuisine. Another moment, and you were stuffed beyond all reason with foods both familiar and strange.

All the while, the soft creature urged you on with sickly honeyed words… And you fell for every last one, leading to many more bites than you’d ever care to have.

After a day of the unicorn’s company, the digested feast had begun to rest as comfortable pudge on your once limber form - a subtle, wobbling muffintop to greet your eyes before whatever breakfast the unicorn had planned for you two.

Another day, and your were greeted by a potbelly instead. Another day, and a proper spare tyre lay before you. Another day, and your hide was thoroughly stretched, and always hungry for more. A day further, and your hopes of slimming down vanished under pounds of tantalizing lard. One further, and you practically had to dig your feet out of the sand after every wobbly, heavy footfall…

And once that first week was up, the unicorn cheerfully invited you to lounge and picnic with him on the beach, in all your new, flabby glory - an impressive feedbag for all the world to see. You were a wobbling, huffing creature now, trained by a diligent hand (and horn) to want nothing but more tasty, tantalizing treats.

Before the picnic began, though, the unicorn spoke plainly, for once, giving you an honest to God choice - leave now, and return to your old life a good five hundred pounds heavier - or stay with him, on the beach, chattering and gorging the day away, until the tide came in, and took both of you away. To where? Well, to wherever the voluminous vagabond hailed from… There would be no going back. But you would see (and taste) things beyond what anything here could provide… And you would still be with that pink, puffy little prat that had lead you along so carefully…

Your mind cloudy with regrets, urges, and most importantly, hunger, you struggle to decide what to do next, as the picnic’s tantalizing aromas assaulted your addicted nostrils… The unicorn smirks knowingly as he bites into a soft, chocolatey pastry, letting the waves lap at his pointy hooves and oozing belly…

What is your decision? (I think you know the answer…)

—-

Here’s a fun little illustration from the start of the year, and honestly, posting it feels more fitting now that we’re in June as opposed to January when I drew this, haha. I had a lot of fun writing the story to accompany this - a very fun little exercise!

I think the descriptions and stories might be my favorite part of making personal pieces like this, especially when I revisit old drawings through new eyes. All sorts of fun ideas present themselves on top of the old drawings, leading to something that feels special, at least to me. Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy!