Pickra was wearing a very low-weight sleeveless hoodie, filling up his water bottle from a cement-clad filling station in the park. The feline's slender, toned frame at the top was juxtaposed with the absolute breadth of his backside. Tight yoga pants strained to contain his posterior, across which was printed 'Mouse Storage', merrily advertising to anyone who took a look just what side of the foodchain he purported to be on. 

       His ears perked up as he heard approaching footsteps. "Hey kitty," The familiar voice of his friend Forest preluded the wuff's appearance. "Sorry I'm late, but I had to borrow some pants from Fomo."

       Pickra blinked, standing upright at this excuse. Why would Forest borrow clothes from a mouse over a foot shorter than him and matching the feline's breadth in the hip department? He turned to face his lupine friend and his pupils dilated. 

       Forest was wearing a similar pair of yoga pants to Pickra's, but the legs only went down to just below the knee, revealing his socks sticking out of his running shoes. The reason for this clothing choice was immediately evident. Somehow, the wuff had managed to outclass the kitty in the hip department. And so suddenly as to need to borrow clothes for it!

       The wuff appeared not to notice the shocked expression on Pickra's face. Or he was just used to the kitty's pupils becoming saucers when looking at him. The kitty was very easy to read in his interest in Forest, after all. "So... do you wanna start running?"

       The feline cleared his throat with a slight hitch, raising one hand half-way to a position to catch a cough if it escalated. "Uh... Forest... how'd you get so... curvaceous?"

       Forest tilted his head slightly, as if he didn't know what the kitty was talking about. However, his tail began to merrily wag behind him, belying that he knew exactly what that meant. "I'm not sure what you mean, Kitty."

       Pickra took a step to walk partway around Forest, getting a better look at his hips... they were so large and soft... maybe even better formed than the feline's! And atop the wagging tail, exposed from the strap holding the seat of the yoga pants up, was a small diamond shape, in lavender, a color found no where else in the lupine's coat. A marking he was familiar with.

       "Did..." The kitty blushed a little bit, finishing his short walk to behind the wuff. "Did all of this come from Trissie?"

       Forest looked over his shoulder. "All of what?" He continued to look innocent, but his tail started moving double-time, sending pleasant wobbles through the tautly held posterior in question. He looked back forward to check a message on his phone. "I swear, kitty, I didn't think you'd react to me this strongly in lycra."

       Pickra frowned at the act and just grabbed a handful of each cheek, feeling the soft plushness creep around his fingers despite the straining fabric. "This!"

       The wuff let out a little yip at the sudden squeeze, his tail's beating motion arresting for a moment. He turned his head over the other shoulder to glance back at Pickra. His expression was now anything but innocent. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his tail began wagging slowly again. 

       The feline blinked in surprise, hands still on the lupine's rear, but not squeezing so intensely anymore. 

       "If you keep that up..." There was a bit of a growl in Forest's voice. "You'll be taking her place~"

       Pickra quivered. He swallowed, hesitating in either removing his hands or doubling down and giving another squeeze... all the while, the emerald green eye was watching him, and his expression...

       ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

       Trissie let out a soft squeak in surprise as she landed on the couch. The skunkette blushed a bit. It was rare that she was ejected through the warmth so forcefully. Of course, nothing hurt... it was just a surprise, considering how intent the wuff had been to keep her right where she was...

       Then she pondered... perhaps it had to do with how a pair of hands that weren't Forest's were grasping over her... That was the first time that had happened to her on his hips! 

       She blushed as she considered: well, maybe the wuff didn't want anyone but him doing that? The idea made her squirm as she fidgeted and got into a comfy position on the couch. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she wondered if any of the others in the cabin were awake this early. 

       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

       Forest let out a low groan, one hand braced against his tricep behind his head, the other extended upward as he stretched to one side. His fur was a bit sweaty from his run, and all the work he'd done leading up to getting around to it. 

       He lowered his arms, then bent forward, jutting his hips out to keep his spine straight. The borrowed yoga pants creaked ominously as this contortion put extra strain across the seat. Of course, he'd have to explain to Fomo why he was wearing a pair with 'Mouse Storage' printed under his tail when he'd left in the mouse's own. 

       The wuff stood upright with a low groan, settling his hands just above his hips. He bounced on the balls of his feet, dropping his sneaker-clad ankles to the pavement a couple times. The impact sent his backside bouncing madly, eliciting a flustered yowl from the back of his mind. He let out a low sigh, smiling slyly to himself. "I told you, Kitty~"

       Pickra grumbled and huffed, embarrassed by the treatment as much as he enjoyed it. 

       Forest took a swig of water from the feline's bottle and headed back home for a shower before his busy day. "He just can't keep his hands to himself, can he, Trissie?"