By trade, Morgan is a White Mage. Doling out boons and buffs to keep her friends and allies fighting at their best! Through thick and thin the raccoon has resolved to keep herself ingratiated amongst her comrades even in the most ferocious of fights. She leads by doing and is loathe to dole out spells and supportive well wishes from the sidelines.

From which she has finally escaped from! Back to normal and back to business, the raccoon is delighted to have returned to her regular size and stature. The same can't be said for her foxy friend, however.

Again, this is but a single pic among many of my normally petite raccoon gal, Morgan, suddenly finding herself looming large. There's a story in progress for it that is now effectively done! Just need to touch it up with editing and post it! Figured I may as well post not only some art to accompany the story but the scenes that goes with it! Behold, the illustrated epilogue.

Amazing art comes courtesy of kernelDecoy!

LINK TO FULL STORY

FIRST, PREVIOUS, EXTRA EPILOGUE

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“Where do I even start?” Morgan thought aloud. Flat on her stomach, legs kicked up behind her, the raccoon’s forearms sank into her mattress as she rested her weight upon them.

“Is that a rhetorical question? Or… or just the regular kind?” Tyr sulked.

The raccoon playfully shrugged. “Ehhhhhh I’m still thinking about it. I mean, hey, at least you’re learning.”

“Learning how? By process of elimination?”

Morgan’s lips pulled flat. “Well, it’s not like Xis is the kind to out and out teach you the right way to go about it. Tyr, I know it’s not what you want to hear right now but learning what not to do is just as important as learning what to do.” She paused. “…What did Xis have to say about all this, anyway?”

“Do we really have to talk about this?” the fox snipped back. Reciting the kitsune’s… critiques of his performance was the furthest thing from Tyridia’s mind. He shifted uneasily on his feet as the cushioned ground bowed beneath him.

Nostrils flared, the pajama clad white mage exhaled with a huff. Fun as it was, she really should have known better than to prod. “Tyr, I’m sorry. We… we can talk about this when you want, if you want, at your own pace. That sound okay?”

Tyr lazily kicked at the wrinkled hills of cloth before him. “It’s just… frustrating.”

“I know, I know,” Morgan reassured him. Her arm gliding forward along her bedsheets, the raccoon offered Tyr her hand. A tiny Tyridia hesitatingly stumbled towards it.

The summoner groaned as his clawed fingers pinched at Morgan’s broad palm. At least the exaggerated disparity in size was something he was already familiar with, laughable as it was. “I went the bird route again…” Tyr sighed.

“Bird route? Oh! Oh. Why didn’t you tell me?” Morgan’s expression softened at the realization. She gently pressed her thumb against his back and stroked him gently.

With a blush, Tyridia leaned into her digit. “I was scared I’d screw it up again. Not like I need to remind you what happened last time I tried to make an illusion real.”

“Sure don’t,” Morgan replied with brows arched. She breathed out through pursed lips before continuing. “So you went and tried it on your own with Xis?” Said kitsune, she silently acknowledged, was gracious enough to let her know something was amiss after the fact. Even if it was in his typically biting and sardonic manner.

“Yeahhhhhhhhh,” he answered. Shame and resentment hung heavily on his every word. “This time around I focused on what a bird would see, not from the air, but from on the ground. Imagined myself eye-level with the floor trimming and… and I choked.”

The raccoon crossed her legs at the ankles and tapped the sides of her padded soles together. “At least your clothes shrank with you,” Morgan quietly offered.

“That’s kind of what brought this all crashing down,” Tyr mumbled with puffed out cheeks. “I wondered what I would do for clothes, or, well, if I would even have clothes when the illusion wore off. So then I tried to figure out what a kimono would look like on a bird and I couldn’t so… so this!” he replied as he gesticulated wildly.

Morgan guided the flustered fox into her palm with a tap of her thumb. “We’ll wait this out, don’t worry.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Tyridia whined and fidgeted when he found himself cradled against her warm, him-sized, fingers. “I-I thought you said you didn’t want to get used to being big!”

“I’m not,” the white mage cooed as she made no attempt to hide the grin spreading across her reddening cheeks. “This isn’t me getting used to being big. This is me getting used to you being little.”

A stream of half-formed words and syllables stammered forth from Tyridia’s maw.

“What? I thought you’d enjoy this! You could hardly stop blushing and guffawing when we walked home hand-in-hand after my illusion finally wore off.”

“That’s because I was holding your hand, not sitting in it!”

Wrinkles formed in the black mask of fur wrapped around Morgan’s eyes as she narrowed her gaze. “So you don’t like this?” she teased.

His eyes darted up to meet her own… along with those tremendous feet, padded toes alternating between curling inwards or splaying apart, kicking back and forth behind her. “…I never said that,” Tyr mumbled out in reply.

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FIRST, PREVIOUS, EXTRA EPILOGUE