This is the final part of a comic of amazing work by TRPCAfterDark (https://www.furaffinity.net/user/trpcafterdark). The pred is my good friend BubblePanda (https://www.furaffinity.net/user/bubblepanda), who is also wonderful, and the story is by me because I got excited. Excuse mistakes, I cranked it out on a whim in like, half an hour or so.

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Early the next morning, Osto awoke feeling...refreshed! Nourished, even. He couldn't help but smile softly, running a hand down through the rich, thick, soft fur around his chest, continuing over the curve of his belly, in the middle of which he stopped. His smile widened, as he experimentally pressed down on the surface of his gut. He was rewarded with a wet, happy burble, and a feeling of warmth that spread outward from his gut to gradually encompass his whole body.

God, he would never tire of that feeling.

Of course, it was accompanied by another familiar feeling, as well. This one started in his stomach, slowly creeping its way up his ribcage, then in his esophagus, where it began to build. The massive red panda turned onto his side, causing his gut to wobble gently as he propped himself up with an elbow. He closed his eyes, breathed in through his nose, and–

bbBbBbWwWwWWWuUuUUUUEEeeEeEEEELLlLLLlLLCCCcccCCHHH!

All that pressure rushed up and out of his throat in a great, wet belch that brought the acid-tinged taste of meat and last night's meal right back up – along with something else. He opened his eyes, looked down, and saw the off-white shape of a fox skull, fully coated in acidic stomach slime, perched on the pillow next to him. Or, at least, the top half of a fox skull. There was no sign of the jawbone, or indeed the rest of the fox. He chuckled, sitting up.

The red panda reached over his head to stretch, feeling muscles tense as they strained and gradually came to life. He felt...heavier. Looking over his shoulder, he was able to see some of the...additions his meal had made. Extra softness in his butt, his thighs, his hips – what love handles! He could feel a weight pulling at his stomach, different from the extra softness he'd already felt, sagging it against his thighs – it let out a wet rumble. Evidentially there was still some liquid fox making its way through his digestive tract.

He couldn't help but smirk at what his body had done to Nick. So that was all that was left, huh?

The fox's skull had begun to stain the pillow with the slime that was part acids, part lubricating slime, part used-to-be-him. Ironically, he'd have loved what Osto's body had done with him. Some extra fat on his gut, his butt, soft and shapely and perfect? Some dregs of fox slurry to start the day with? A trophy to remember him by? He was wah food.

And Osto hadn't needed to say a word. He'd made his point pretty well.

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