It had been a long week at work for little Lambert, the tiny sheep. After meeting that strange mouse with wide hips, he found himself missing his favorite tie which put him in an odd mood. Work just wasn’t the same without it, and a replacement wouldn’t be arriving in the mail until next week. Lambert was distraught without it, as his vest and dress shirt just didn’t have that same pazzazz that got the attention of that cute mouse. He pondered heading back to the club all week after his shift at the museum, but he couldn’t put his hoof on why that may be a red flag for the little sheep. Something instinctual told him to run from the place every time he passed by it, overriding his personal interest in stepping back in.
 
 
  It was decided that Lamb would take a quick weekend vacation out to the local woods just beyond the city, at a popular campsite called Redwood Resorts. Looking online, it was hardly considered a resort, mostly a toll booth that campers would pass through to get to one of several flat dirt sites for camping gear and tents. Despite his prim and strait-laced appearance, Lambert was a big fan of going outside, especially to the beach or camping. The lax use of the name “Resort” was actually perfect for the sheep, who found the minimal intrusive nature of the campsite perfect for a lamb ready to rough it for a weekend, provided he had enough bug spray. He packed his favorite cargo shorts and comfortable tee shirts, as well as all the necessities of any camping trip, including a tent and sleeping bag. Lambert loaded up his car with the camping gear and enough food to last well over a week, always prepared for any surprises when out camping, and after reserving his spot, headed off for a 2 hour drive out to the resort.
 
 
  Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Fomo and Forest Wuff were also packing for their little camping trip. The two were inseparable, basically brothers, so when the rodent suggested they spend a weekend out in the woods, Wuff wagged his tail wildly at the prospect of the wide open outdoors.
 
 
  “Now you didn’t forget the jerky this time, right? Your stomach keeps me up at night when we go camping and you forget your jerky, plus I want some this time!” Fomo peeked his head over the side of their car as he packed the cooler full of drinks into the back and closed the trunk with a hard slam.
 
  “I didn’t forget the jerky, dude, been waiting all week for this! You can have some if you can pry it from my maw!” Wuffles responded and gave a toothy smirk as Fomo hopped in the passenger seat with an audible huff, his hips perfectly fitting the wide cushion.
 
 
  “Not on your life, dork.” Fomo raised an eyebrow at the canine’s joke, giving his snout a little flick in response. The fuzzy boy scrunched up his nose in response before closing the driver’s door and putting on his seatbelt. Fomo did the same and got comfy in his seat, leaning it all the way back and placing his feet up on the dashboard. Forest adjusted his glasses before they set off on their trip, the mouse closing his eyes for a little nap.
 
 
  Upon reaching Redwood Resort, Lamb drove up to his designated site, passing a small “Site 16” and began to unload his stuff and set up his tent. Through the somewhat dense woodlands he noticed another car pulling up to the nearby lot. “Ugh, I didn’t figure the lots would be this close… they better not be some rowdy teens…” he said to himself as the sheep started to pitch his tent. Lambert could make out two figures stepping out of the car, but their chatting and noise was minimal, much to the relief of the sheep. He figured the woods were dense enough to mask any real noise. Once the sheep’s campsite was set up, he stretched his back and looked around at his surroundings. It was a very lush forest, with deep evergreen and redwood trees all around him. Despite the summer heat in the city, the air was cool and breezy out in the woods, which Lambert much preferred. He sat down in his folding chair and closed his eyes for a quick little nap.
 
 
  “YOU FORGOT THE JERKY?!? I TOLD YOU TO DOUBLE CHECK!!!” Lamb’s eyes shot open seconds after they had closed, and he stumbled and fell out of his chair to the hard dirt floor, his head jerking over to the other camp. No way in a million years could that little sheep make that loud a sound, but sure enough the two figures seemed to be in a quarrel from what he could see and hear.
 
 
  “I swear I put it in the cooler with our drinks, Fomo!” a very flustered Wuffles responded to the mouse who was red in the face and stamping his foot on the ground.
 
 
  “Who puts jerky in a cooler, Forest? I could have told you it wasn’t in there when I packed it. If I cook dinner now, your stomach is gonna be growling when we sleep louder than you do. If I cook dinner later, you’re gonna be begging like a puppy until then. You see the issue here?” Fomo was clearly frustrated. The jerky he could live without, but when the Wuff was hungry, Fomo felt more like a babysitter than anything. Maybe not an angry mouse, but his ideal vacation didn’t consist of bad sleep over a grumbling Wuff tummy. Forest didn’t know what to say, his tail tucked between his legs and ears folded down, trying not to look the much shorter mouse in the eyes. “Look, I’m sure this place has a snack machine by the front office, maybe there’s something there to tide you over before dinner. I’ll set up the tent and everything, you just go grab something quick, deal?” The mouse chuckled, in an instant raising the pup’s spirits. He wagged his tail and nodded in response, grabbing his wallet from the car and walking down the dirt path the way they came in. As Forest set out, Fomo shouted out for him, “Bring me some potato chips if they got any!”
 
 
  “No problem, bro!” Forest giggled and walked off, taking note of the “Site 17” sign up front as Fomo worked on setting up camp. Forest fiddled with his necklace as he looked around, trying to keep his mind off of his stomach and its incessant grumbles. It wasn’t too far back to the front office building, maybe a twenty minute walk, so he had plenty of time to look around. The woods were quite thick, and passing by his neighboring site he realized that each site was hard to tell from the woods themselves unless one were to really walk up and see the signs. “Site 16…” he mumbled to himself. “Fifteen more to go, I suppose...” He carried on on his peaceful walk, whistling a little tune before reaching the front desk in what seemed like hours to his gut. He peered inside, stepping in slowly until a friendly voice made his ears shoot straight up.
 
 
  “Hello there, welcome to Redwood Resort, how may I help you?” giggled a young and energetic squirrel. She was dressed up in what appeared to be a park ranger outfit, a comfortable set of beige clothing made out of a durable material and a badge and hat to match. Forest scratched the back of his head at his simple conundrum.
 
 
  “I was wondering if you had a snack machine or something around here…” he asked.
 
 
  “Mm… I don’t think we do, Boss says it makes littering so much more prevalent.” she chuckled. “Be sure if you do have any snacks on you while you’re out visiting this landmark wooded getaway be sure to throw all trash and leftovers away in the proper trash receptacles!” she beamed a very forced smile. The canine rolled his eyes and started to walk back outside.
 
 
  “Would if I had any…” he muttered to himself, letting out a little huff, absolutely done for the rest of the day and ready to hear more from Fomo for his screw up. Maybe he’d just go for a longer walk, to spare the mouse any puppy dog whimpering that may occur and that would help keep his mind off food until Fomo decided to make dinner. Next to one of the sites in the park was a view of the lake, so that seemed like the best place to walk by for a scenic, peaceful trip.
 
 
  As Lambert walked along for a bit of exercise, he noticed a very stunning lake, and from his view couldn’t see any other people around. “Strange, you’d figure people would be out here, it’s only eight or so at night…” he shrugged as he stepped up onto the edge of the water, sitting back in the grass for a few minutes to rest his hooves. “Guess the sun is basically set at this time, and there’s no fishing so it makes sense.” He pondered as he tried to skip a stone. It sank on first impact. “Never could figure out how they do it” Lambert let out a little yawn as he stretched, thinking it was time to head back in. He got up, arms swaying as he headed back through the woods to make his way back to the cozy little tent.
 
 
  There was a faint scent of blueberries in the air as Lamb trotted through the woods, which made his nose twitch in delight. Maybe there were yummy little snacks meant to be eaten in these woods, and the sheep’s tail wagged with exuberance. The thought of tasty blueberries made the sheep smile. At that moment, a low rumbling tummy let out an all too familiar sound. But it wasn’t coming from Lambert. Forest had a flushed red face of embarrassment as he hid behind a tree, trying to calm his growling stomach. Usually he was very calm and composed, unless maybe around bunnies, but without any nearby he figured it was time to play the Big Bad Wuff. A tiny sheep would surely understand the plight of a hungry wuff, plus it had been a bit since last tasting lambs. Forest couldn’t help but salivate and snicker at the thoughts racing in his head, licking his lips, imagining the taste. Surely he would say yes to the proposal if he understood just how tasty he must be under all his wool.
 
 
  Forest slowly approached from behind the tree, his hands behind his back in an attempt to not spook the sheep. A friendly “Hello~” met the sheep’s ear, which, given the setting still had the young sheep scared out of his wits. Lambert jumped at the greeting, quickly turning to meet the source of the sound and finding his face pressed against the chest of a fluffy Wuffles. Hesitantly, he tilted his head up, meeting a smirking muzzle looking back down at him. The fluffy predator stood at a little over a foot taller than the sheep, and his shadow loomed over him like the towering figure he was for Lambert. Forest flashed his fangs, glistening white under the radiant moonlight, as a dribble of gooey saliva fell from his lips and splashed down on Lamb’s cheek, causing him to reflexively blink and shut his eyes. Two furry arms slowly surrounded him, gently a paw was laid on his wool, pressing him to that fuzzy chest as he listened to the growing heartbeat.
 
 
  “You’re soft as a blanket, aren’t you~?” Forest growled, his voice deep in his throat as he put on a fun little theatric for himself.
 
 
  “W-Who are you, might I ask?” Lamb shuddered, slowly wiping away the saliva dripping down his face. He felt his head being pushed lower down Forest’s body, smooshed against his soft and slightly pudgy tummy. It growled again, right against the sheep’s ear, and he could tell that Forest’s tummy was completely empty. Forest thought his next words carefully, not in any attempt to keep the sheep clueless, but the opposite. His theatrics were going to send his prey into a fluster of emotions, just as any good performance entails.
 
 
  “I’m the Big Bad Wuff~” he chuckled, the claw on his index finger visibly drawn so he could gently scrape it against the sheep’s chin, bringing his audience’s attention right to his piercing gaze, emerald green eyes beaming in the light. “You, my precious lamb, are gonna be blown away~” he huffed, before he dropped his act for a second to giggle at his own joke. “Heh… sorry… I thought it was funny” he chuckled, his claws more firmly digging into the sheep’s clothes. Lamb let out a little whimper and squirmed in place, feeling himself slowly being moved step by step backing up until he was against a wall. The bark suddenly pressed against his back made him let out a little squeak. Lambert continued to stare up at the intimidating Forest, then his eyes started to dart left and right as he looked for the nearest campsite. It was then that Lamb realized he was probably in the most dense part of the park’s woods.
 
 
  Forest leaned in close, his wet nose tickling the sheep’s muzzle as he closed the distance. “How about this? I promise to keep you extra safe and warm with me and my bro tonight… and you just have to close your eyes. Sound good?” The sheep raised an eyebrow. Surely there wasn’t anyway he could run back to his car or get help. He didn’t know what to do to get out of this strange situation himself so he let out a little shiver and closed his eyes tight, nodding to the canine before lifting his arms up.
 
 
  “That’s a good lamb, you seemed so lost and cold. I’ll help you warm up and show you the path through the Forest~” he chuckled to himself again. Lamb smiled and dropped his guard a bit, lowering his arms once again at the prospect of a warm relaxing evening with some fellow friendly campers.
 
 
  The Big Bad Wuff gave another toothy grin at the relaxed lamb in his clutches. Forest was no liar, he would be true to his word and show Lambert exactly what he promised. He gave his jaw a little stretch side to side as he licked his lips. Forest opened wide as his claw gently ran up Lamb’s chin, guiding him to face upward. Lambert’s hooves made a gentle clatter against each other, leaves crunching near silently under their shaking. Eyes still held shut, the only hint that his head was already nearly fully engulfed by the hungry predator was the huff of warm breath washing over his face, fogging up his glasses. It wasn’t until the wet squish of Forest’s tongue pressing against his chin that Lamb was completely caught up to what exactly was happening. His instincts tried to kick in, telling him to start kicking and running, yet part of his body wanted to remain still as the scrapping of Wuffles’s fangs on his neck was a good indicator that it would be very bad to fight in such a vulnerable position. But the biggest thought that overwhelmed his mind in that moment was thinking back to the week before when Lamb found himself in a similar situation with that sexy mouse pred. There was a sense of calm and strange pleasure that took over the small sheep’s mind, and Lambert started to blush and nuzzle against the tongue.
 
 
  The edges of Forest’s lips curved up again, feeling his prey slowly giving in and enjoying it as a good snack often does. Before Lambert could change his mind, Forest lurched forward, causing the sheep’s muzzle to get jammed in the canine’s throat, causing the slightest of bulges. Lamb tried to keep his cool, crossing his shaking legs and nervously scratching at his arm, full of embarrassment at how much he was enjoying those squishy insides glazing his body with saliva. Forest took a hold of the waistline of Lamb’s shorts with both paws and hoisted him up off the ground, causing a little muffled whimper to ring out from his own throat. Forest took a deep inhale through his nose and gulped again, feeling the sheep slide further into his throat. The bulge was much more noticeable now, but it wasn’t anything Forest couldn’t handle. The only worry he had was the instinctual kicking coming from the sheep. With only his lower body not slobbered in saliva, despite his fascination, Lamb was still twitching and his hooves tapped against the tree he was previously pinned against. His body cared more for survival than the sheep himself did. He reeled his legs back as far as he could in one last ditch effort to knock the predator backwards onto the ground and wiggle out, and before Forest could question what was going on, Lamb kicked both his hind hooves with all his might against the tree…
 
 
  “GULP!” Forest’s eyes widened in surprise. The force of the kick did not do much to help free the squirming sheep. In fact, the kick only propelled him down the pred’s tight throat, as if he kicked off a wall down a water slide. Before Forest could even close his maw, the sheep zoomed down his throat, leaving the Big Bad Wuff flabbergasted as his stomach bulged out with a squirming, kicking meal all tucked away. Lambert huffed and kicked and wiggled as much as he could, a sudden slide down into this sweltering hot stomach wasn’t exactly what he was expecting either. He could feel the gentle swaying of his newfound sleeping bag as gentle acids pooled around his legs and swished back and forth to the rhythm.
 
 
  “What took you so long, and where are my chips?” Fomo sighed as he sat by the fire at their campsite.
 
 
  “Uh… didn’t have any, so I decided to walk…” Forest responded with a little chuckle.
 
 
  “Well I made dinner so I’m sure you’ll be happy” Fomo chuckled back with a smile.
 
 
  “Actually… I’m not that hungry right now, I’ll just have leftovers in the morning.” Forest smiled back, slowly getting into the tent with a sigh of effort coming from all the extra weight.
 
 
Fomo didn’t answer, only able to give a confused look before shrugging it off and continuing to relax by the fire, nibbling at his own plate’s leftover food. He gave a startled squeak and dropped the plate as a loud and long belch shook the tent next to him. “Nice one!” Fomo chuckled to the tent.
 
 
Inside, Forest was cleaning his teeth with an extra slobbery pair of Lamb’s glasses, picking wool out of his teeth as his gut continued to churn and digest its meal. Eventually Fomo walked into the tent and saw Wuff on his side, his tummy taking up a good portion of the already small tent, squirming and weakly poking all over its walls. Fomo let out a little snort and decided to cuddle up to that tummy, squeezing his wide hips into a comfy position to smoosh Forest’s stomach and cuddle, leaving Lamb with little room to move. The heat was quite toasty, comparable to a hot sauna, and the slick walls only added to the humidity. He was still comfy, squished between two preds, but he huffed heavily, exhausted from his time in this reformatory. He gave a little bleat and yawn and closed his eyes for a nap with the two.
 
 
The next morning Fomo was again startled to waking by Wuffle’s burps, this one probably louder than last night’s. His eyes shot open and he found himself alone in the tent. When he opened the flap, rubbing his tired eyes, he looked up at Forest, and at his feet was a skull with nubby horns dripping with drool.
 
 
“Goat? Or sheep?” Fomo asked, looking back up at Forest’s slightly pudgy gut.
 
“Sheep.”
 
 
“Oh, yeah, those are good, had one last week. At least now you got a bod to match your dad joke sense of humor... He uh, gonna be okay?”
 
 
“Uh… I’m not sure…” at that moment Forest’s ears picked up the distinct sound of Lamb bumping into a tree with a tired groan, as if hung over. He turned his attention to the nearby trees and quickly tossed his makeshift toothpick at the nearly blind Lambert, who soon picked them and looked back. An awkward exchange of waves and a blushing sheep was all that was communicated before Lamb turned and walked back to his tent. That was quite a night of camping for Lambert. Strange, but he couldn’t complain about close company.