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The Fox, the Snake and Lugia Exchange Belches
A commission for 
JN1306
Thumbnail art by
whiteperson, send him a +watch for his 3D maw art gems and occasional 2D work!
Ancient trees buckled. Through the sacred forest echoed abysmal, ground-rumbling belches. Asako the white fox and his snake fellow were having a belching contest by the great lake, and bears and wolves and deer and sundry other kinds of creatures had gathered to watch. Some of the smaller beasts perched on the shoulders of the larger.
Asako and the snake had been practising their burps for well over a year. Whereas the fox used to only be able to burp for a couple of seconds when he gave his best effort, now he could belch for eight when he was just warming up. A couple of weeks ago, he had belched for several minutes, and it had drummed the whole ecosystem with a droning quagmire noise, slick and resonant like metal being thrashed, and really deep. For hours afterward, the forest had smelled of the berries, herbs and small game that had marinated in his gastrointestinal tract.
Today the cocky burpers belted belches back and forth. Continual jolts of the earth put toasty vibrations in the chests of the spectators. The pair were trying to outdo each other because Asako had asked the snake, “Can I see how long your tongue can stretch?” (The snake, you see, had a super-duper long tongue. One time, Asako had seen him coil a dozen folk at once with it then burp on them teasingly.) “I sssupose I could show you,” the snake had replied. “That is, if you can belch longer than me.”
One of the snake’s belches lasted thirty-six seconds. It was a very localized hurricane. It brought Asako to one knee. It blew some of the gathered critters into the lake like they were just foliage.
Then came Asako’s turn. Smirking playfully, the white fox rose and clutched his belly. He countered with his own burly belch: one which sounded like a gong reverberating. It buffeted everyone behind the snake with humid winds that felt like a fiery magic attack. The snake blushed because the fox’s slobber-launching mawshot rippled and gusted for what seemed like forever. When the burp sputtered out, animals were stuck in disheveled hedges, having been walloped into them. And the snake had flattened himself against the now-sundered ground, had coiled up to keep himself from meeting the same fate as those fluffy hedge ornaments.
“Forty-four seconds, that one,” one of four rodent referees declared.
One bassy retort from the snake swept Asako off his feet. He backwards somersaulted then landed with wobbly legs. He balanced as his foot-claws skidded along the bank of the lake into the shallow of the surf. Afterward, a few rodents reared on their hinds and squeaked agreeably, informing the competitors that that one had lasted fifty-six seconds. Inspired by his friend’s endurance, Asako closed his eyes then inhaled deeply. The inhale looked like what preceded a sneeze, then like a yawn. But it lasted even longer than that. He rose onto the tips of his toes without knowing it as his belly domed out. The crowd went still with enthrallment. They looked upon him how they would look upon a wise teacher, a learned monk of some monastery.
What Asako unleashed was a rip-roaring roar of a belch. From his maw flames spewed forth. A belch of such scale, depth and tremulousness could have come from a dragon. Every soul and body was shaken. Animals fell low, hugged the ground with amazement and self-preservation. The snake was pinned against a short cliff above the bank for its duration, blinking with wide eyes. Chunks of the cliff crumbled around him. Truly Asako had reached that point that everyone who practices an art for over a thousand hours reaches.
Again the rodents consulted one another. Seventy-eight seconds! Some traditional beast-songs of the forest-dwellers are shorter than that. Arousal filled the snake.
True to his word, he pulled himself out of a crater in the cliff-wall, then opened his maw to show Asako the length of his tongue. He loosed it into the green-blue-black murk of the forest, a tongue of seeming infinity. The tip of the snake’s tongue wrapped around something warm and fluffy faraway, but no one could see what. “I’ve caught someone,” said the snake with garbled words. “Wonderful,” exclaimed Asako. “Let me climb on your back. We’ll zip our way to them, then see just how long this tongue of yours really is.” Asako boarded the snake. The snake prepared to pull them to the ensnared person by retracting length from his tongue, but something happened.
From the murk into which the snake had cast his line, a tongue even fatter than his darted like an arrow, and wrapped him in a dozen coils. A hiss of shock, and the snake was suddenly jerked forward and reeled along the bank, disappearing from the view of the crowd in a second.
Suddenly, they snapped to a stop before a creature of broad, burly wings tipped with fingers; a swan-like neck; a teardrop-shaped head; a blue-shield emblazoned belly; and two blue pikes like horns, which masked his blue-black eyes. The snake gazed into his maw, then looked down and was astonished, for his own tongue was wrapped around the neck of the beast. That had been as far as his tongue could extend, about two thousand feet, but Lugia had proven his was longer by coiling it around the snake.
“What a long tongue you have,” complimented the snake, his face brightening. Asako’s brightened as well, and their eyes twinkled, for they had never before seen this beast in the forest, and they could read his energy. He was friendly.
Even though Lugia had his tongue full, he chuckled and managed to respond without his speech sounding garbled at all.
“Yours as well!” he said. “You two must be from around that lake down south. I come from the sea to the north. My home is a cave that drinks the waters off the tip of the Beaver-Tooth Peninsula. A couple of days ago, I was resting on an alcove of my cave by the surf when I felt what I thought at first to be the sounding horn of some ship, or some great legendary Pokemon, such as myself, awakening from the ocean’s depths. Other belches, like aftershocks, followed it for hours. Well, I was intrigued by that, so I flew into the ocean air and tracked them and came to your forest, but didn’t find you until today. Your songs have restored my strength.”
“Oh? Why might that be?” asked Asako, leaning over the snake’s head with his own head curiously cocked.
“Because I once practiced belching under the sea, but the schools of fish would scatter into wide clouds of lone fish, and the sharks would chase their tails distraughtly, and the creatures in the kelp-forests would hide, for my burps were too powerful and everyone feared them. Ergo, I migrated to the world above the sea, then began practicing belching on the northern shores, but the crabs would tuck into their shells and the gulls would flock off and other critters would hide in sandy holes. Alas.
“In my peninsula-lair, there is a shaft which plunges into the depths of the earth. I have a chamber there where I unleash my burps when necessary—for I get as bloated as a frightened blowfish, if I don’t relieve myself—but no one hears me. It is only my own song echoing back at me, a secret unshared. But I see now that it can be shared, for the denizens of this forest appreciate and thirst for the feeling of long, loud burps. Burps that are expansive, like the seven seas!
“Might I share mine with you and the fellow forest-creatures, little fox and long snake?”
If only Asako and the snake weren’t immobilized by the coils of Lugia’s tongue, they might have hugged the sea-beast and his big, woolly feathers.
“Of course,” hissed the snake.
“Anytime,” encouraged Asako.
And so Lugia flew up and travelled to where the pair had been before he’d lassoed them, his tongue gripping them closely. Amongst the critters, he outstretched his wings, then retched forth a heinously deep, rude belch.
Wet loam and cliff stone shattered and exploded. Like a hairline does with age, the cliff receded a full eighth of a mile. A deep bowl of earth that smelled of albatross and sardines and seaweed and stomach juice now separated this cliff from Lugia. Asako and the snake had whitened, as excited as they were. A belch of such magnitude was both scary and fun, like riding a canoe down a rapid waterfall of undetermined height. Pleasure had been steeped into their every bone. Lugia chuckled at how easy it had been to wow them. That one was just a warm-up belch. It had been nine seconds long, but louder than any of Asako’s longest eructions.
Now Lugia’s tummy was activated. It turned into a whirlpool of bubbly chyme. With pride he relinquished a second belch he could have never held back, not even for politeness.
“BWWUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWRRRHHHUUUUURRRRPP!”
Ninety-two seconds. A great maelstrom could not have ravaged a wee isle as utterly as this utterance ravaged the surrounds. Once upon a time, Lugia’s Aeroblast had been known for uprooting palm trees only. This one had uprooted and felled several of the ancient sequoias and redwoods and yews, some of whose boles spanned even wider than the sea-beast’s wings. Amongst a rubble of megalith logs and needle detritus and scattered hedge pieces, only a few critters remained. In the center of their makeshift circle was Lugia, who looked bewildered by his own performance.
“Oh dear … oh dread, I feared for this. My burps have eradicated your homeland.” He hid his face behind his wings, shook his head. “Years of letting loose into an underground chamber have raised my belching power to a level of hazardous proficiency. A thousand apologies.”
“No, no!” consoled Asako, and patted the sea-beast’s tongue. “This has happened to our forest before. Xerneas always enjoys using his magic to help us clean up. Trust me, the damages are worth the experience to us creatures of the woods.”
“Oh … really?” Lugia peeked out, hopeful. “You’re not just talking courteous, are you?”
“We insssist,” said the snake, “let it all out. Let us help you let it all out!”
“I d-dunno,” admitted Lugia, “I don’t think the two of you realize just how many oysters closed their shells for decades because they feared the end of the world, when it was just my burp … or just how many ocean trenches I have opened up.”
“We’re ready,” Asako promised.
“Gwuaww. Well, i-if that’s so … I say, here it comes …”
To help Lugia belch as loudly and long as he could, the snake wrapped his tongue around Lugia’s belly and squeezed it with two dozen coils. Asako leaped off of the snake then clung to the sea-beast’s spongy warm belly flesh, and hugged it with the upper limits of a white fox’s strength to assist. Lugia’s head feathers bristled. In isolation he had never had anyone to embrace him this way, to put his belly under such pressure … He could feel the gas of the whole mire rushing upward, bloating his craw, ballooning his cheeks …
“BUHHHOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWRRRRAAAAWWWRRRPPP!!!”
It wasn’t a force Lugia could stop. The roaring, galing blast that blathered from his gullet caused Asako to gawk. It humbled him in his own eyes and in the eyes of his fellow forest-dwellers. The belly jiggled and slapped and wobbled like a great dome of gelatin as he clung dearly to it, hoping to not be caught by the current of the gases being expelled. The scale of the belch was oceanic, the bass a perfection of the undulating single-note melody.
Suddenly acres of forestry fell. Trees dropped in great numbers. Their upturned roots formed the illusion of a wall of varying height to the forward looker. Lugia’s heels skidded across the lake waters. An astonished look on his face remained as his lips flapped egregiously, as the snake flopped upon the skin of the water like a fish snagged by the line of a fisher. Asako loosed a shrill kon, wearing a mask of mortification which, if you read between the lines, said that convincing Lugia to unleash this kingly belch was—to him—entirely worth it.
A gluttonous god couldn’t have belched a more uncouth thunder of forest razing. Dust plumed over the sinking canopy of conifers. The belch went on for nine minutes.
Asako and the snake adventured on their belching vehicle north—watching the burp leave countless crumbling acres of forestry in their wake—and skidded over the ocean. Thirty-six minutes. The sea-beast’s beak bugled over the vast endless expanse of sea, reshaping the cumulus clouds, subtly steering their course.
Two hours. Three hours. Five hours.
Strange lands passed by the trio, lands of desert, city, snow, mountain. As Lugia loosed forth the sonic demons of his belly, he looked upon the snake—whose tongue was wrapped around him and who was wrapped in Lugia’s tongue likewise—and upon the fox with gladness. These were friends without whom he’d still be afraid of sharing his belly music with the world. Friends with whom he now travelled the world, and saw many lovely people, places and things. He lunged forward and wrapped the two to his belly in a big wing embrace. A cooing undertone came to his long-lasting belch.
Asako and the snake had a new burping tutor with whom they could learn even more regarding the ancient art of belching. Lugia had gained friends who would bond strongly with him. All was well. Well, except for their sleeping schedules. They would all be tired as heck by the time their backward-flying burper-friend finally ran out of belly fuel.
JN1306Thumbnail art by
whiteperson, send him a +watch for his 3D maw art gems and occasional 2D work!The Fox, the Snake and Lugia Exchange BelchesAncient trees buckled. Through the sacred forest echoed abysmal, ground-rumbling belches. Asako the white fox and his snake fellow were having a belching contest by the great lake, and bears and wolves and deer and sundry other kinds of creatures had gathered to watch. Some of the smaller beasts perched on the shoulders of the larger.
Asako and the snake had been practising their burps for well over a year. Whereas the fox used to only be able to burp for a couple of seconds when he gave his best effort, now he could belch for eight when he was just warming up. A couple of weeks ago, he had belched for several minutes, and it had drummed the whole ecosystem with a droning quagmire noise, slick and resonant like metal being thrashed, and really deep. For hours afterward, the forest had smelled of the berries, herbs and small game that had marinated in his gastrointestinal tract.
Today the cocky burpers belted belches back and forth. Continual jolts of the earth put toasty vibrations in the chests of the spectators. The pair were trying to outdo each other because Asako had asked the snake, “Can I see how long your tongue can stretch?” (The snake, you see, had a super-duper long tongue. One time, Asako had seen him coil a dozen folk at once with it then burp on them teasingly.) “I sssupose I could show you,” the snake had replied. “That is, if you can belch longer than me.”
One of the snake’s belches lasted thirty-six seconds. It was a very localized hurricane. It brought Asako to one knee. It blew some of the gathered critters into the lake like they were just foliage.
Then came Asako’s turn. Smirking playfully, the white fox rose and clutched his belly. He countered with his own burly belch: one which sounded like a gong reverberating. It buffeted everyone behind the snake with humid winds that felt like a fiery magic attack. The snake blushed because the fox’s slobber-launching mawshot rippled and gusted for what seemed like forever. When the burp sputtered out, animals were stuck in disheveled hedges, having been walloped into them. And the snake had flattened himself against the now-sundered ground, had coiled up to keep himself from meeting the same fate as those fluffy hedge ornaments.
“Forty-four seconds, that one,” one of four rodent referees declared.
One bassy retort from the snake swept Asako off his feet. He backwards somersaulted then landed with wobbly legs. He balanced as his foot-claws skidded along the bank of the lake into the shallow of the surf. Afterward, a few rodents reared on their hinds and squeaked agreeably, informing the competitors that that one had lasted fifty-six seconds. Inspired by his friend’s endurance, Asako closed his eyes then inhaled deeply. The inhale looked like what preceded a sneeze, then like a yawn. But it lasted even longer than that. He rose onto the tips of his toes without knowing it as his belly domed out. The crowd went still with enthrallment. They looked upon him how they would look upon a wise teacher, a learned monk of some monastery.
What Asako unleashed was a rip-roaring roar of a belch. From his maw flames spewed forth. A belch of such scale, depth and tremulousness could have come from a dragon. Every soul and body was shaken. Animals fell low, hugged the ground with amazement and self-preservation. The snake was pinned against a short cliff above the bank for its duration, blinking with wide eyes. Chunks of the cliff crumbled around him. Truly Asako had reached that point that everyone who practices an art for over a thousand hours reaches.
Again the rodents consulted one another. Seventy-eight seconds! Some traditional beast-songs of the forest-dwellers are shorter than that. Arousal filled the snake.
True to his word, he pulled himself out of a crater in the cliff-wall, then opened his maw to show Asako the length of his tongue. He loosed it into the green-blue-black murk of the forest, a tongue of seeming infinity. The tip of the snake’s tongue wrapped around something warm and fluffy faraway, but no one could see what. “I’ve caught someone,” said the snake with garbled words. “Wonderful,” exclaimed Asako. “Let me climb on your back. We’ll zip our way to them, then see just how long this tongue of yours really is.” Asako boarded the snake. The snake prepared to pull them to the ensnared person by retracting length from his tongue, but something happened.
From the murk into which the snake had cast his line, a tongue even fatter than his darted like an arrow, and wrapped him in a dozen coils. A hiss of shock, and the snake was suddenly jerked forward and reeled along the bank, disappearing from the view of the crowd in a second.
Suddenly, they snapped to a stop before a creature of broad, burly wings tipped with fingers; a swan-like neck; a teardrop-shaped head; a blue-shield emblazoned belly; and two blue pikes like horns, which masked his blue-black eyes. The snake gazed into his maw, then looked down and was astonished, for his own tongue was wrapped around the neck of the beast. That had been as far as his tongue could extend, about two thousand feet, but Lugia had proven his was longer by coiling it around the snake.
“What a long tongue you have,” complimented the snake, his face brightening. Asako’s brightened as well, and their eyes twinkled, for they had never before seen this beast in the forest, and they could read his energy. He was friendly.
Even though Lugia had his tongue full, he chuckled and managed to respond without his speech sounding garbled at all.
“Yours as well!” he said. “You two must be from around that lake down south. I come from the sea to the north. My home is a cave that drinks the waters off the tip of the Beaver-Tooth Peninsula. A couple of days ago, I was resting on an alcove of my cave by the surf when I felt what I thought at first to be the sounding horn of some ship, or some great legendary Pokemon, such as myself, awakening from the ocean’s depths. Other belches, like aftershocks, followed it for hours. Well, I was intrigued by that, so I flew into the ocean air and tracked them and came to your forest, but didn’t find you until today. Your songs have restored my strength.”
“Oh? Why might that be?” asked Asako, leaning over the snake’s head with his own head curiously cocked.
“Because I once practiced belching under the sea, but the schools of fish would scatter into wide clouds of lone fish, and the sharks would chase their tails distraughtly, and the creatures in the kelp-forests would hide, for my burps were too powerful and everyone feared them. Ergo, I migrated to the world above the sea, then began practicing belching on the northern shores, but the crabs would tuck into their shells and the gulls would flock off and other critters would hide in sandy holes. Alas.
“In my peninsula-lair, there is a shaft which plunges into the depths of the earth. I have a chamber there where I unleash my burps when necessary—for I get as bloated as a frightened blowfish, if I don’t relieve myself—but no one hears me. It is only my own song echoing back at me, a secret unshared. But I see now that it can be shared, for the denizens of this forest appreciate and thirst for the feeling of long, loud burps. Burps that are expansive, like the seven seas!
“Might I share mine with you and the fellow forest-creatures, little fox and long snake?”
If only Asako and the snake weren’t immobilized by the coils of Lugia’s tongue, they might have hugged the sea-beast and his big, woolly feathers.
“Of course,” hissed the snake.
“Anytime,” encouraged Asako.
And so Lugia flew up and travelled to where the pair had been before he’d lassoed them, his tongue gripping them closely. Amongst the critters, he outstretched his wings, then retched forth a heinously deep, rude belch.
Wet loam and cliff stone shattered and exploded. Like a hairline does with age, the cliff receded a full eighth of a mile. A deep bowl of earth that smelled of albatross and sardines and seaweed and stomach juice now separated this cliff from Lugia. Asako and the snake had whitened, as excited as they were. A belch of such magnitude was both scary and fun, like riding a canoe down a rapid waterfall of undetermined height. Pleasure had been steeped into their every bone. Lugia chuckled at how easy it had been to wow them. That one was just a warm-up belch. It had been nine seconds long, but louder than any of Asako’s longest eructions.
Now Lugia’s tummy was activated. It turned into a whirlpool of bubbly chyme. With pride he relinquished a second belch he could have never held back, not even for politeness.
“BWWUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWRRRHHHUUUUURRRRPP!”
Ninety-two seconds. A great maelstrom could not have ravaged a wee isle as utterly as this utterance ravaged the surrounds. Once upon a time, Lugia’s Aeroblast had been known for uprooting palm trees only. This one had uprooted and felled several of the ancient sequoias and redwoods and yews, some of whose boles spanned even wider than the sea-beast’s wings. Amongst a rubble of megalith logs and needle detritus and scattered hedge pieces, only a few critters remained. In the center of their makeshift circle was Lugia, who looked bewildered by his own performance.
“Oh dear … oh dread, I feared for this. My burps have eradicated your homeland.” He hid his face behind his wings, shook his head. “Years of letting loose into an underground chamber have raised my belching power to a level of hazardous proficiency. A thousand apologies.”
“No, no!” consoled Asako, and patted the sea-beast’s tongue. “This has happened to our forest before. Xerneas always enjoys using his magic to help us clean up. Trust me, the damages are worth the experience to us creatures of the woods.”
“Oh … really?” Lugia peeked out, hopeful. “You’re not just talking courteous, are you?”
“We insssist,” said the snake, “let it all out. Let us help you let it all out!”
“I d-dunno,” admitted Lugia, “I don’t think the two of you realize just how many oysters closed their shells for decades because they feared the end of the world, when it was just my burp … or just how many ocean trenches I have opened up.”
“We’re ready,” Asako promised.
“Gwuaww. Well, i-if that’s so … I say, here it comes …”
To help Lugia belch as loudly and long as he could, the snake wrapped his tongue around Lugia’s belly and squeezed it with two dozen coils. Asako leaped off of the snake then clung to the sea-beast’s spongy warm belly flesh, and hugged it with the upper limits of a white fox’s strength to assist. Lugia’s head feathers bristled. In isolation he had never had anyone to embrace him this way, to put his belly under such pressure … He could feel the gas of the whole mire rushing upward, bloating his craw, ballooning his cheeks …
“BUHHHOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWRRRRAAAAWWWRRRPPP!!!”
It wasn’t a force Lugia could stop. The roaring, galing blast that blathered from his gullet caused Asako to gawk. It humbled him in his own eyes and in the eyes of his fellow forest-dwellers. The belly jiggled and slapped and wobbled like a great dome of gelatin as he clung dearly to it, hoping to not be caught by the current of the gases being expelled. The scale of the belch was oceanic, the bass a perfection of the undulating single-note melody.
Suddenly acres of forestry fell. Trees dropped in great numbers. Their upturned roots formed the illusion of a wall of varying height to the forward looker. Lugia’s heels skidded across the lake waters. An astonished look on his face remained as his lips flapped egregiously, as the snake flopped upon the skin of the water like a fish snagged by the line of a fisher. Asako loosed a shrill kon, wearing a mask of mortification which, if you read between the lines, said that convincing Lugia to unleash this kingly belch was—to him—entirely worth it.
A gluttonous god couldn’t have belched a more uncouth thunder of forest razing. Dust plumed over the sinking canopy of conifers. The belch went on for nine minutes.
Asako and the snake adventured on their belching vehicle north—watching the burp leave countless crumbling acres of forestry in their wake—and skidded over the ocean. Thirty-six minutes. The sea-beast’s beak bugled over the vast endless expanse of sea, reshaping the cumulus clouds, subtly steering their course.
Two hours. Three hours. Five hours.
Strange lands passed by the trio, lands of desert, city, snow, mountain. As Lugia loosed forth the sonic demons of his belly, he looked upon the snake—whose tongue was wrapped around him and who was wrapped in Lugia’s tongue likewise—and upon the fox with gladness. These were friends without whom he’d still be afraid of sharing his belly music with the world. Friends with whom he now travelled the world, and saw many lovely people, places and things. He lunged forward and wrapped the two to his belly in a big wing embrace. A cooing undertone came to his long-lasting belch.
Asako and the snake had a new burping tutor with whom they could learn even more regarding the ancient art of belching. Lugia had gained friends who would bond strongly with him. All was well. Well, except for their sleeping schedules. They would all be tired as heck by the time their backward-flying burper-friend finally ran out of belly fuel.
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Category Story / Inflation
Species Pokemon
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 384.7 kB
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