By this time Hildy had made a hollow for herself inside a tree for the occasion of devouring the fine cake she now had in her possession. She wallowed it's crumbly bits about in her mouth before gulping the remainder of the confection down in one swallow. Her belly pooched in the delightful and happy if somewhat unnatural and distended fashion of one whom is not so often well fed. She was not so far from Morty and the Pigman that she couldn't still hear the latter yelp and bemoan as he made dips and swells through the air by the power invested in Morty by the space state of Helgado.
Wiping the crumbs from her whiskers, she peeked out of her hollow and delighted at seeing someone other than herself being whisked about by the winds. She kind of wondered at the force she perceived to be Morty. It was something palpable; she could sense that this force had a name, and that it was indeed Morty. He was like the point of light between her eyes at orgasm, the air that played with her skirts and her legs as she was whisked away, time and again. She felt as if she’d been having an intimate relationship with this force, with Morty since she first touched herself in that particularly naughty way at the age of 13. She emerged from the tree and walked purposefully and seductively towards Morty and the Pigman, swinging her ample and attractive bottom in the only way she knew how. She no longer feared the Pigman since she had gained his own personal power from his fine cake, the power of someone a little too well fed. She looked up at the winds blowing him about, at the signs that Morty, her first lover, was towering above her. She raised her voice above the pitiful noises of the Pigman.