Alyx was made of circles. Her face, her chest, her arms, her stomach… Each and every piece of her was some sort of ellipse or another. A life of excess and comfort would do that to any worgen after all though, and the female canid was quite an example of this. A chin which sagged down to where her neck had once been was the first feature which made itself apparent. It dictated where the ovals of her cheeks rested, where the stubby muzzle on her face was forced up ever so slightly in spite of her trying to look down, and just where the collar of flab that had once been a neck for the rotund worgen had once been. Swollen with adipose and nigh constantly in motion, it was one of the smaller parts of flab on the top of her, and the first of a sort of set of steps down her incredibly obese frame. She put the fatter beasts to shame with her size, and that only became more apparent as eyes continued down her.
Past her rounded shoulders, coated in black fur and bulging at the seams with fat like the rest of her rotund frame, were the swells of her arms. Each looked to be more like a wing of fat than an arm, and were almost always moving as they brought more and more food to her mouth, or waved around with the light magic which Alyx used to bring even more food to her. These wings of flab were folded down well over where her elbow had once laid, and had a pair of smaller but still bloated forearms sticking out of them. Add in a paw that could be more called a bun with sausages sticking out of it, and that was the worgen’s swollen paws. Each was mostly useless to do much else but bring the absurd portions of food to her mouth which fueled her immense frame, and yet they did that in spades. They had to contend with her breasts though, and those two things were already unwieldy even before Alyx had started down the road to obesity she was still on. A pair of blubbery mounds on her chest, each brest sagged down over her stomach as though they were small bellies in their own right. They undulated and heaved with each breath of hers, always got in the way of her arms, and prevented the worgen from seeing anything past what was nearly straight in front of her. She loved them though, and would often use what considerable strength was hidden beneath countless layers of adipose to bring the two hills of her breasts up to her face in order to just tease herself. Of course, the fat on them paled in comparison to what was below, and that was saying something.
Her stomach, the pride and joy of her frame, sagged nearly down to her ankles and impeded her mobility rather heavily. Of course, she could still waddle along slowly, but her tectonic gait was in no small part thanks to a table muscle that could smother any table brave enough to support its weight. Always grumbling for more food, it was a jiggling mass of fat that kept the worgen slow and ponderous at all times. She was quite proud of that stomach though, and would often just shove her paws into the fat of her lovehandles and give it a few good jostles for good measure. The resulting waves of fat ran throughout her frame, from her quaking hips that could smother any bench to a rump that would make some beds vanish beneath its girth. All told, the worgen had no idea what she weighed, but she didn’t care in the slightest. Alyx was quite content to just feel herself get fatter, and fatter, as she went from being able to get through doors to needing special buildings just to accommodate her size. Her hips could brush the sides of some double-doors now at her size, and she was beginning to have to spread her stance as she stood thanks to not the fat in her thighs, but in her calves, as it too was brushing against itself. The canid was just as content as could be with this growth though, and as she looked hungrily on at her next meal over what could only be described as a small ocean of black fat, she knew she would be adding to it until the world ran out of food.