A French Mare and one hell of a bellyache-induced food coma. Golly!
In my form of degeneracy, we have ourselves this super respectable, very stoic Prench mercenary mare who would wring your throat like a cheese grater, but uh... oh my. To tell you bluntly, Partisan Remore had one hell of a meal. Instead of the standard bland rations like Hardtack, stale oats, and the occasional preserved salt pork Yes, I will defy dietary logic for cartoon reasoning, she got something the noble class tends to dine on. Freshly made breads so soft it could be used as pillows, sizzled freshest fishes caught from the most exquisitely maintained ponds, exotic cheeses plucked from the finest of farms, desserts drizzled by the world class pâtissiers without even a single dollop of mistakes, and the richest taste of the premium wines straight out of the priciest casks to ever exist. Suffice to say, she was living the high life!
Unfortunately, Partisan Remore isn't exactly the type with proper mannerisms in this high life. To say she was regretting her decision is putting it lightly. So overstuffed and beyond full, she is likely going to struggle even breathing correctly for a good while. A food coma is gonna set in within that food baby of hers, that's for sure. Bloated beyond belief within that petite athletic frame of hers!
"Gllourgllr... blruourrglbrnnlll... GroouuUUAAaahhh... ChrruouUuurGlrrbblllLll..."
Let's hope her achingly stuffed gut is better off than the state our Prench mare has ended up in. No doubt that it's gonna be quite the chatty beast from such decadent gluttony. Can't even imagine how all that is gonna be sitting in there like a big iron ball of a calorie bomb either... dummy horse...