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(This story contains anthropomorphic animals, overeating, and male weight-gain.)
    Rovest stopped at the crest of a small rise so he could see his goal. He got a look at the tiny village and his snout got a whiff of wood smoke that was coming out of a few chimneys. His long rabbit-like ears honed in on the repeated ring of a lone blacksmith’s hammer. He managed a slight smile and even wagged his bushy wolf-tail as he approached, knowing this was the place he could live in peace.
    As he came among the small houses and other buildings, he could see the villagers going about their business. A small group of children played nearby, and an old blind jaguar sat on a stoop mending a net. Approaching the elder, Rovest said, “My pardon, sir, but I am new to this village. Could you tell me where I might rent a room, or who might be looking for employment?”
    The jaguar kept his place in the net and said, “Well, young man, by the sound of how slow the hammering’s been going, I’d say the smith is in need of an assistant again. If you’re looking for sleep, I would avoid the tavern two doors down, and instead see if Mama Rosa has a room. She’s down by the stream across from the mill.”
    Rovest looked off in the direction the old one was pointing and said, “Thank you.” Having come from the capital, he was used to the blind having a cup for begging, but saw none. “Um, how may I repay you?”
    The old cat smiled and said, “If you have a net needs mending, just bring me your business. I need nothing more.”
    Thanking him again, Rovest thought about where to go. Since it was near sunset, he decided to try for the room first, and would approach the blacksmith in the morning. Besides, his gray and white fur was beginning to mat from the day’s journey, and he could use the bath and the rest.
    The walk down to the stream was quick enough and it wasn’t long before Rovest spotted the big wheel sticking out of it. Turning the other way, he saw a large house with an upper story plus attic. He climbed the stairs to the porch and knocked on the front door.
    After a few moments, the door was opened by a squat badger lady. “Yes, can I help you?”
    Rovest answered, “Yes, ma’am. If you are Mama Rosa, I hear you may have rooms to let.”
    She eyed the stranger over before saying, “That I am, and that I do. However, this isn’t a flop house for wayward scoundrels. I only let respectable local people live in my house and sit at my table.”
    “Oh, not to worry, ma’am. I am not passing through. In fact, I intend to talk to the smith in the morning about a job.”
    Mama Rosa brightened. “Oh, that is different.” Swinging the door wide, she ushered him in and started showing him around. “I have a small room up two flights if that’s alright. You can get breakfast here in the dining room from an hour after sunrise. If your work has you leaving earlier, I’ll make sure you have something in your hand as you go out the door. Supper is spot on the first bell after sunset - don’t be late!” Leading him up the stairs to the attic level, she opened a door to reveal a tiny room with a bed and night stand with an oil lamp. A small dormer window looked out on the river. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get supper ready.” With that she turned and left.
    Rovest just about had time to get his things unpacked and wash up before it was time to go down for supper. Mama Rosa smiled at his promptness as he sat down at the only empty chair. He looked along the table at the variety of people who were in turn giving him the once-over. Then, following Rosa’s lead, they all start putting food on their plates and passing around.
    As things settled down and folks started to eat, the burly bear across from Rovest kept looking at him. After a while he finally spoke, “Excuse me, sir, but you seem familiar. Where might I have seen you before?”
    Rovest swallowed what he was chewing as he considered what to say. He honestly didn’t expect to get this sort of question, not here at any rate. “Well, I’m not certain. I just got to town this afternoon. Where else would you have seen me?”
    The bear replied, “Well, running the dry goods store does keep me here in Shemsford, is true. But a few months ago I was in the capital helping my sister due to her husband breaking a leg. And it’s from there that I think you look familiar.”
    Rovest swallowed this time with no food in his mouth, and tried to figure out what to say. But as he was about to respond, Mama Rosa piped up. “Oh, Franklin, that city is so full of people. How could you remember a single person?” There was a smattering of polite laughter among the diners.
    Rovest sighed to himself in relief. He really wanted to find a nice quiet town where there was no chance of anyone recognizing him. But perhaps that was impossible. He quietly ate his dinner, hoping the otherwise pleasant conversation would not turn to him again. Fortunately, it didn’t, and the diners all left the table, some to retire upstairs, and others to go to homes elsewhere in town. Franklin was one of the latter.
    Mama Rosa must have seen Rovest’s eyes follow him out the door, because she was suddenly beside him saying, “Don’t worry about Franklin, dearie. He’s just been widowed a few years, and I imagine he just wants to make things more interesting. He’ll be ready to marry again in some years, and whoever she is will straighten him out.” She chuckled and went back to clearing the table.
    The next morning Rovest got up early and, with a small sack of breakfast from Mama Rosa, went to the blacksmith’s. The smith was a muscular fox who was grateful for the help, and hired him on the spot. Rovest put in a hard day’s work and got back in time for supper.
    The next few days went the same way. The only change was the number of people who passed by the forge increased. Many were talking amongst themselves, and Rovest could swear some were looking straight at him as he worked. Shrugging, he tried to ignore them and put his head down in his chores.
    At the end of the week, Rovest entered the boarding house to find it full of people, all of whom were looking at him. Franklin was at the front grinning the biggest grin he could make. “I knew it! That was where I’ve seen you. I was walking down the street in the capital and a parade went by, a parade to honor the Hero of the Battle of Wyvern Pass. And there you were, sitting up on a chair, looking about as uncomfortable as you do now.”
    Rovest was stunned as he looked about at the admiring faces. He gave a sigh and nodded. “Yes, that was me.”
    Mama Rosa bustled to the front and said, “That’s alright, my dear. Come sit down. Some of the neighbors have brought pies and such as a way of saying thank you. You don’t want to disappoint them, do you?”
    Rovest gave another sigh and followed his landlady to the table.

    * * *
    The fire roared as the bellows compressed to send air to it. After a few more times, the fire was hot enough, so Rovest stopped and scratched his exposed furry belly. He sighed as he looked down at his once-svelte form. The belly he’d been scratching was as big as any large pumpkin, and his butt had gotten wider as well. His chest was softening, and starting to form a pair of man-breasts that would soon rest on the increasing shelf below them.
    He then took up a pair of tongs and started to grasp pieces of metal that were sitting in a half-barrel of water. As he placed each in among the glowing coals he could hear the sizzling as the water on them boiled away. Rovest smiled to himself as he liked that sound for some reason.
    As he finished, the smith had finished what he’d been doing and said, “Well, time for a quick lunch.” He went inside his home, leaving Rovest to find lunch on his own.
    He didn’t have to go looking, because there was Mrs. Grimauld, a stately raccoon lady, waving him over and setting a large plate of food on one of the outdoor tables of her cafe. It was one of several new businesses that had sprung up over the past several months. As more people came to town to see the “Hero of Wyvern Pass”, if only to express thanks or watch him work for a couple hours, the village had filled to capacity. More homes had been constructed, and or course folks come to sell the increased populace goods and services.
    Mrs. Grimauld smiled as she saw Rovest put on his large shirt and begin to cross the somewhat busy street, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or respond to an expression of thanks from a passerby. As he got across, she said, “Please have a seat, Lord Yakuto.”
    Rovest winced at the use of his last name, as well as the title. “Please, Mrs. Grimauld, I’ve told you many times that you can call me Rovest.” He sat down at a table, noting how his belly pressed into the edge.
    “Nonsense! The King made you a lord personally, and you won’t catch me going against the King!” She smiled as she put a plate of biscuits next to his full plate of meat, potatoes, and vegetables. “Enjoy!”
    The other diners couldn’t help but look over and at Rovest and either wave or just smile. Rovest tried to just get through lunch. Though the plate was piled high, he was used to eating as much so had no trouble cleaning it, and consuming all the biscuits as well.
    “Thank you, Mrs. Grimauld. What do I owe you?”
    “Now, let’s not start that again. I’ve told you many times, the amount of folks coming through to eat when you do, or just look across at the forge where you work more than makes up for one meal. So let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
    Rovest nodded and got up with a bit of a groan. He traversed a similar gauntlet crossing back to the blacksmith’s shop and got back to work helping his employer form the pieces that had been in the fire.
    After a hard afternoon’s work, during which his body really felt like napping, Rovest straightened up the workspace and headed home. He walked alongside a street where carts and wagons would go up or down off to whatever destinations they had. There were occasional passersby who just had to thank him and shake his hand. Though the attention made him uncomfortable, it would have been odd if he didn’t encounter such people at least once every day.
    When he got to the boarding house, Mama Rosa handed him the usual towel and soap and pointed at the back door. Rovest smiled because she was the only one who pretty much treated him the same since finding out his true identity. He strolled out to the nearby river and started to clean the day’s sweat and grime off of his fat body.
    Dinner was similar to what it had been these past several months. Thankful residents would drop off various dishes periodically, so that there was always a bounty of food on the table, buffet, and sideboards. As the hero, Rovest was expected to sample everything, which he tried his darnedest to do. By the end of the meal he was stuffed to the gills, and got up with a large groan. Thanking Mama Rosa, he made his way to the stairs, and made the long, laborious climb up two flights to his room.
    As Rovest lay in his bed, his belly sticking up like a pregnant woman’s, he listened through the open window. Even after dark the town had sounds of people going about their business. He remembered how the entire place had pretty much gone still at night when he first moved here, but Rovest could see lights all over town. Even at night it was starting to be busy.
    Sighing, Rovest turned off the lamp on the night stand and drifted off to sleep.

    * * *
    The busy thoroughfare was bustling with traffic. Carts, wagons and even the occasional enclosed carriage hurried in both directions. Pedestrians clogged the walkways to either side, carrying goods or on their way to do some shopping or other business.
    This bustle was halted on one side of the street, as an enormous wolf-rabbit tried to make his way. His belly was a few feet wide and hung down to his knees as he stood. His thick thighs pushed it along with each step, causing it to jostle first to the left and then to the right. The huge butt cheeks that were under his bushy tail swayed in the opposite direction as his belly, while his large moobs seemed to have their own plans sometimes. The finely-made shirt and breeches he wore still covered everything, but it was easy to see that wouldn’t be the case for long.
    Even though the pedestrians had been in a hurry, their reaction to this leviathan obstacle was not one of frustration. In fact, quite the opposite. As they made their way around Rovest’s bulk, they gave him pleasant greetings, shook his hand, and sometimes gave him physical gifts of appreciation. He awkwardly accepted these, adding them to the armload he was accumulating.
    This went on until Rovest managed to make his way to the forge. Sweaty and out of breath already, he put his gifts aside and waddled over to the bellows to heat up the fire like he always had first thing. On the way, he managed to knock over a barrel containing scrap pieces with his belly. Embarrassed, all he could say to the smith was, “Sorry.”
    Rovest then noticed that his boss had a look on his auburn and white-furred face like he was about to tell someone their grandmother had passed. “Um, you see, Your Lordship…”
    “You’ve never called me that before Mr. Trimbol.”
    The fox looked even more uncomfortable and replied, “Yes, well, I didn’t think it was proper, not while I was your employer…”
    “Oh, that makes sense...waitaminute, are you firing me?”
    Appearing a bit relieved that they had arrived at this part of the conversation, Mr. Trimbol answered, “Well, yes, it seems I need to. You seem to be bumping into things, and you aren’t able to use the bellows for long before you need to stop, and as late as you get here I don’t really get more than a few good hours of work out of you. Your Lordship.”
    “Wait, it doesn’t take me that long to walk over here, does it?”
    The smith’s only answer was to point up to the sun, which was more than halfway through its morning climb.
    “Oh.” Rovest couldn’t tell what made him feel worse - being fired, or the obvious discomfort Mr.Trimbol felt in bringing it up. “What should I do now? Working here is pretty much the only exercise I get.”
    “I’m not sure, Your Lordship. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He knelt down to start picking up the scrap metal and putting it in the barrel.
    With a sigh, Rovest heaved his humongous form out onto the walkway and absently shook hands and accepted presents from more people all the way home.
    As he struggled with the half-dozen stairs going up to the porch on the boarding house, Rovest thought of the climb to his old attic room, Panting and sweating, he was grateful Mama Rosa has moved him to the largest room on the first floor.
    He came in the wide front door to a relatively empty house, with only a few servants bustling about. Upon seeing him one of them went to fetch Mama Rosa, who came out of the kitchen with a curious look. “Is everything alright? It’s only an hour past noon, and you’re usually not back before sundown.”
    Rovest gave a sigh then explained how the blacksmith had fired him. After a moment she declared, “Well, perhaps it is for the best. One day you might have knocked something over that could hurt someone or start a fire.”
    While he considered what she had said, she went about his person, testing the fabric of his clothing. “Hmm, seems like these are getting tight. Are all of your clothes fitting like this?”
    “Um, yes, pretty much.”
    “Well, no matter. I’m sure Mrs. Greene and the others will make some more, once I let them know. Now, hove you had any lunch?”
    “Um, no, I just walked to the forge and back…” There then came a rumbling from deep within his midsection, which caused him to blush.
    Mama Rosa tsked and said, “Well, come on then. It’s not like we don’t have plenty, thanks to everyone in town.” She started toward the dining room, and, with a deep resigned sigh, Rovest followed.

    * * *
    Rovest awoke to the sounds of the bustling city that lay all about him. His snout then caught a whiff of breakfast meats frying, so he knew his day was about to start. He tried to heave himself out of bed, but his gargantuan belly had long since prevented him from sitting up directly. He had to get it rolling off to one side of the sturdy bed and then use that momentum to get into a sitting position. Once it all settled down, his belly forced his legs wide until it came to rest on the floor.
    Keeping it resting there, he was able to get on his feet, then, slowly and laboriously he was able to pull himself to a standing position thanks to the heavy rope that hung from the ceiling. Standing there, his gray-furred belly nearly reached the floor. Sighing, he wondered how long it would take until it actually touched. He straightened the huge pair of shorts that covered his gigantic rear - pretty much the only thing he wore while indoors - and slowly waddled out the extra-wide door.
    On the other side was a large dining hall with rows of long tables. Toward Rovest’s side of the room one table was set apart, with only one large, sturdy chair facing the rest of the room. This is where he ate three huge meals a day, which consisted of food made by folks from all over the town and the surrounding area. Some had even travelled for days to get to his table. Occasionally people liked to make a big show of presenting the food to him, and they awaited eagerly his reaction when he got around to eating it.
    As he slowly made his way to the big chair, Rovest still felt amazement that everyone got together and built him this house, right near the river. The half-dozen steps up to the porch of the boarding house was becoming insurmountable, and even the widest doorways brushed his sides heavily. Besides, Mama Rosa declared there was no way she would allow “a half-naked male lumber around as if he hadn’t a care” in her house.
    Rovest made his way to his chair slowly, as the table was being piled with a vast assortment of breakfast foods. He sat down in the enormous chair with the help of two strong bucks, and as his plate was filled he began to eat. And eat. Like most meals, it seemed it would never end, until, about a dozen plates in, he was finally full.
    The folks who had so recently filled the table now took away nearly empty platters, while others helped Rovest clean up. As usual, he couldn’t get upright after eating, so set there as his stomach struggled to digest it all.
    “Wow, I didn’t think the rumors were true!”
    The volunteers began to depart, leaving a lithe black fox that Rovest thought he recognizes. “Namio, is that you?”
    The fox smiled as he approached. “I should’ve said that about you, Rover! I was in a village out in the Inbarian Foothills when I heard a rumor of a ‘hero in the riverlands that ate people’s gratitude and was as big as a house’. You know I don’t usually hold with folklore.but had an inkling, so decided to check it out. As I got closer I was given more accurate descriptions, so I knew who I’d find when I finally got here.” As Manio talked he pulled up a chair to the table and sat down.
    Rovest was a bit embarrassed to learn that there were actually legends about him and his enormous body and appetite out in the world. To try and change the subject, he inquired, “So, how are you, old friend? The Inbarian Foothills, eh? So you’ve done a lot of travelling?”
    Namio smiled and said, “Oh, I’ve done my fair share. As soon as I figured out they were going to start giving out medals and holding parades, I had to get out of there.”
    “But you were at the Pass too, and every bit as much a hero as they claim I am…”
    “Hey, when the officers died or ran off, who was it that held us together by talking to us? Who lead us in that final charge that won the day? That was all you, my friend.”
    “But you and all the others were right there, every inch of the way.” Rovest sighed and continued, “Maybe you were the smart one. I men, look what those parades and medals got me.” He placed two hands on his gargantuan belly, barely able to reach a fraction of the way around. “I tried to stop this toward the beginning, but maybe I should have tried harder. I actually decided that I’m going to start refusing the food before I’m so fat I can’t move.”
    Namio sighed and looked about as serious as he ever got, which was about half-serious. “Do you have any idea what that would do to these folks? I bet you haven’t seen much of it, but you are sitting in one of the largest cities in the world, possibly second only to the capital. And unlike the capital, this place is thriving - everyone has a job that they seem very happy to have, and everyone gets enough to eat. That’s all because of their gratitude to you. If you were to just take that away from them...I don’t know what might happen.”
    Rovest thought about this. “Do you really think so?”
    Looking him in the eye, Namio answered, “Yes, I do. You’ve always been pretty selfless, putting others’ needs first. I would hate your first totally selfish act to be refusing these people’s thanks. It’s almost like it’s your duty to accept it.”
    Rovest smiled. “Maybe you’re right.”
    The two friends talked for a while until it approached lunch time. A matronly panther approached and said, “My Lord, we are about to bring in lunch, which will include a wonderful noodle dish brought by a family all the way across the Kingdom. Will your friend be joining you?”
    Rovest smiled and replied, “Yes, but I also need to say something. Everyone, could I have your attention for a moment?” The bustle dwindled into silence. “This is Namio Takenaro, and he was also at the Battle of Wyvern pass. He fought every bit as bravely, and therefore deserves just as much gratitude as I. Please show him as much hospitality as you do me.”
    The bustle continued, and as they brought out the food they gave Namio a huge smile and a “Thank you.” Namio just looked at Rovest and said, “You couldn’t resist, could you.”
    Rovest laughed. “Well, You convinced me not to be selfish by refusing their gratitude, but I figured it would be okay if my first selfish act was making sure I had an old friend for company while I did my duty.”
    Namio gaped for a moment, then broke into a laugh. The two continued their friendly banter as the townsfolk filled two plates for them.