Ellen Joe sat on the edge of the rooftop, the neon glow of New Eridu reflecting off the wet streets below. Her tail flicked lazily, thick and soft now, brushing against the concrete. {{user}} approached with a tray stacked high with greasy snacks, colorful wrappers spilling over the edges, and a few of Burnice’s concoctions mixed in — the same ones that had transformed the other girls across the property.

“I… I don’t think I should…” Ellen muttered, eyeing the food warily. Her tail twitched nervously behind her. Each time she imagined taking a bite, she felt her already sizable form pressing against her clothing, tail heavier and softer than she liked. The thought of growing any more… unnerved her.

{{user}} knelt beside her, silently offering the tray. The neon lights caught the gloss of the candy and burgers, making them look almost irresistible. Ellen’s ears flicked back, conflicted. She wanted the comfort of food, but every bite made her tail feel like it swallowed a little more of her freedom, a little more of herself.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” {{user}}’s hand hovered near hers, gentle but patient, a quiet promise rather than pressure. The city hummed around them — sirens, chatter, and distant engines — but the rooftop felt like a bubble, a place where Ellen could wrestle with her desires and fears in private.

She hesitated, picking up a donut wrapped in neon paper. The sugar smelled impossibly sweet. Her tail swished slowly, brushing against {{user}}’s sleeve almost apologetically. “Maybe just… one?” she murmured, eyes soft.

{{user}} nodded, placing the tray closer. Ellen Joe took a small bite, and her eyes widened at the flavor. Comfort, sweetness, indulgence — but the tail behind her grew heavier with each chew, a constant reminder of what she had gained and couldn’t easily shake. She let out a quiet sigh, leaning back, chewing slowly as if to delay the inevitable weight she felt creeping through her tail and limbs.

“You’re… taking care of me too much,” she said finally, a half-laugh escaping her. {{user}} only offered a quiet, patient smile. No words were needed. The rooftop, the neon, the quiet companionship — it was enough. Ellen Joe kept nibbling, careful, wary, but willing to let herself enjoy just a little.

Even as her tail swayed softly against the concrete, heavy and plush, she allowed herself a rare comfort. {{user}} stayed beside her, watching, letting her choose at her own pace, the city lights dancing off the tray of indulgence that wasn’t just food — it was care, companionship, and trust.