Hunting was a natural instinct for predators. It came secondhand, like breathing or blinking. The need to be on the prowl and pounce on beings lower on the food chain was deeply embedded into the mind of every predator. An even stronger message coded into a predator's DNA was the need to obtain food the easiest way possible. This anthropomorphic wolf, of a species well-known for their predatory behaviour, had certainly found an easy way to obtain food. Why should she go out and get her own food when she could easily scare the whelps around her into getting it for her? Exactly, she shouldn't. This wolf had found something that could keep her fed while expending the least amount of energy. Her nomadic lifestyle was no longer necessary. The struggle, the challenge, the obstacle of keeping herself fed was entirely removed from her life. Instead of moving from place to place, she scared the locals to build a village while offering protection in return.

Soon enough, she is deemed the leader of this makeshift village, surrounded entirely by forestry and foliage. It thrives as much as a primitive village should, with very minor organization but enough to keep people alive and fairly happy. Most members of this village hunted or even stole from neighbouring villages to provide food for the village. Under the rule of this wolf, named Aeila, most of the villagers got a rather meager amount of food and supplies while she gained most of the reward despite the fact she put little to no effort into retrieving it. Aeila grew to become accustomed to her lifestyle of nothing but commanding and eating. Instincts told her it was the right thing. It meant she was at the top of the food chain and nothing was going to bring her down. However, instincts aren't the best to rely on in the long run. Creatures of the wild don't have the ability to restrain themselves. They're meant for a heavily active lifestyle with a challenge to their consumption. Life was far too easy for this predator and it showed.

Aeila was huddled up in the largest structure of her village, away from the dangers and challenges of the outside world. Laziness had grabbed a hold of her and didn't plan on letting go any time soon. She didn't need to get up when all the things necessary for survival were at her fingertips. The endless consumption, combined with sloth, had transformed the apex predator into an outright hog of a canine. Aeila, as usual, lies in her poor, creaking bed that strains to bear the brunt of her massive and constantly climbing weight as she gorges endlessly on the food brought to her. The bed, like the rest of her, is damp with sweat as her body, heavily insulated with tonnes of blubber, tries to combat the pre-existing heat outside. Her breathing is heavily laboured, each inhale forcing a wheeze from her fat-clogged neck as she draws in air through her saliva-dribbling, food-stained maw that seems short thanks to the mounds of flabby cheeks on either sides, and the three or four chins depending on the angle she had her head in that were deposited beneath the original. Those same cheeks mildly impeded the vision of her fiery amber eyes.  Aeila very sluggishly reaches to the fair-sized table next to her bed with a strained grunt and stretches out flabby, cylindrical arms that have sagging flab with dimples at the elbows where the fat begins to overlap, and grabs a fatty hunk of meat that was brought in earlier by one of her personal servants. She rolls back onto her bed that shifts and splinters a great amount as her weight re-settles into place. Greasy bite after bite is tore from the bone as her overworked jaws quickly devour it and send it down her greedy gullet. Tinted saliva and juices from the meat drip from the side of her maw and stains the previously white fur bordering her maw that has long since been stained a faded yellow with her messy gorging and sweating. The bone is licked clean of its grease and juices and tossed aside before she brings a fattened paw to her mouth and licks up every last rivulet of drool on her digits. Those bloated, black paws fall back to her sides, eliciting a quiver from her bulbous upper arms. She lies back down, propped up by pillows, long matted by her extreme weight.  Beneath her series of chins are her breasts, truly massive - however, they lacked greatly in proportion to the rest of her body. Sweat and grease pooled to form a practically geletinous substance in the cleavage of her mountainous breasts. When it didn't seep into her cleavage, it eased itself across her broad, mangy-furred chest to her sweat-shined pink nipples that were clearly visible amongst the surrounding white fur. Buried deep beneath all of this flesh is her poor, stressed heart that struggles with every single beat. If the whale of a wolf decides to do anything more than shift, the organ, so dreadfully drenched in fat, begins to pound painfully at her chest and force sweat by the gallons on her body.

The most prominent part of her frosty-white body was her gut. The sagging, shapeless mass could hardly be called a gut and could be an entity of its own. At the angle she was propped up in bed, her gut went down to cover just at her fat-swallowed knees. The heaving, billowing mass was a testimony of all her years of unrestrained gluttony and laziness, along with her village's success. Most women developed a singular, rounder belly, or a 'double belly'. Aeila certainly did not. The massive, constantly jiggling sack of blubber contained a myriad of creases and folds that shifted and re-created themselves at each angle of her recline. Each crevice had sweat coating it, soaking the previously white fur beneath it. It gurgles and groans excessively loud, depending on the amount of food she's managed to cram in there - or lack thereof. Even when her poor, overstretched stomach is strained with her gluttony, she'll force food down her gullet until she can practically feel it backing up. Digestion, though, only made those GRRROOORRR's even louder as her tired body worked so painfully hard to try to process the meal she just finished with, topping it off with tonsil-rattling belches that flung saliva feet from her maw. Her thinned pelt, made so by stuffing herself to the gills, showed off numerous, lengthy stretch marks that all radiated around her sunken navel. Inside this navel is some sickening pool of sweat that has sat stagnant for too long.

Hidden beneath the hefty mound of lard are her legs, thick and wide as can be, flattened out when lying down by their own weight. The weight is distributed all around - it's slightly smoother on the outside but her inner thighs are thick, segmented rolls that go down to her knees which are buried beneath both thigh and stomach fat. They pressed tightly and forced the white wolf to hold her legs in a wide stance, even when lying down (though she practically never stood, primarily because of atrophied muscles). Those blimped thighs led to another tremendous aspect of this formerly fearsome wolf...

Her ass was truly enormous and so much of it squished out to her sides as her own weight forced the folds of flesh to the side. What was once a happy, wagging tail was now buried and stuffed between the massive cheeks, entirely restricted of movement in its sweaty confines. Should she choose to lay on her stomach, which is rather unlikely because that requires effort and that's just not something she wants to give any more, one could see the twin, mountainous peaks, with a rather odorous, sweaty valley in between where her tail lay trapped. Beneath the sweaty, matted fur topping the copious mounds of lard and blubber of her ass cheeks, is cellulite and lots of it - mostly from unhealthy eating and exercise habits, a tribute to just how truly unhealthy this beast was, if the sweating and extreme letheargy didn't give it away. If Aeila decided to stand (she wouldn't), her ass would droop and sag down over the backs of her knees, all of that lard succumbing to gravity and weighing her body down with all of her excess. If she had just finished a particularly large or greasy meal, accompanying her gut's gurgling would be unladylike and disturbingly loud assaults of noxious gas from between the sacks of lard attached to her, often making Aeila sigh in relief as the pressure is released.