[WIP] [ST 10A: JOG BACK]

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The full moon shines in the sky, illuminating the imposing figure of the giant standing at the top of the slope leading toward the city of Suhr. The pale light shrouds his muscular, beastly frame, accentuating his dominance over the land. Despite the night having already settled over Guarida, the heat still clings to him, wrapping his hairy skin as a reminder of the tiring day behind him.

He takes a few seconds to prepare himself before embarking on the journey back, eager to head back to the remote forest nestled among the mountains, to the place he calls home.

Without further delay, the giant starts jogging. The warm summer breeze embraces his massive body as he picks up speed, and the ground trembles with each step under the weight of his form. He pays little mind to the rumbling, his thoughts instead dwelling on the events that just transpired.

Transporting humans is not something he does often. In fact, it’s been years since he last carried a single human from the forest to their home. Usually, when he finds humans there, he limits himself to escorting them to the other side of the turbulent river marking the boundary of his secluded forest, giving them a stern warning for trespassing. That is, unless they’ve happened upon him in a foul mood—or worse, provoked him.

His jog speaks volumes of the extraordinary shape he’s in; his pace is measured, and his speed unyielding, a testament to the rigorous routine of a giant who must cover kilometers of terrain on the daily, as it is his case. His lifestyle, and the relentless need to patrol every inch of his vast territory, keeps him in a state of absolute physical prowess.

The giant retraces his steps, crossing once again the diverse landscapes that define the southern part of Guarida, now shrouded in the serene stillness of night. The only sound that breaks the quiet is the thud of his footsteps, echoing through the moonlit shadows, a solemn reminder of his massive presence.

Behind him, a haze of dust rises from the dry earth beneath his feet, the very ground worn by the repeated tread of the giant’s immense form. The remnants of unlucky creatures or objects that failed to escape his path are now just forgotten traces on the road he leaves in his wake.

His speed is impressive. It takes the giant only a quarter of the time to cover the same distance he had previously traveled while carrying the human in his hand, as his pace matches or even surpasses the fastest human creations of the day.

The giant slows his pace as the landscape becomes steeper, and after several kilometers, he reaches the familiar clearing nestled between the mountains where he had been training before encountering the little human snooping around in his private forest.

He’s visibly out of breath, but it’s less from exhaustion and more from the warmth that has settled into his body after jogging such a long distance from the human city. He’s far from being truly exhausted—he knows that if he so desired, he could keep going until the break of dawn, or even beyond.

But wisdom prevails. After a long day of construction work in the human city to the east, physical training in the forest, and this unexpected detour to the south, it’s best to stop and rest, so he can face tomorrow with renewed strength.

His belongings are exactly where he left them, his pants neatly folded, and his boots standing proudly among the wild greenery that surrounds the mountain ledge. Everything as it was—undisturbed, as if nothing had happened.

However…

The giant gazes at the scene, lost in thought. The situation gnaws at him, a familiar unease settling in. It’s been years since something like this happened, and as always, it occurs at the most unexpected of times.

In search of solace, he turns his eyes to the moon—his old, silent companion—shining with a calming radiance high in the starlit sky.

“Could it be...?” he murmurs softly, his voice a whisper against the stillness of the night.

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a sharp, pungent odor that invades his nostrils.

One way or another, the toll of the long day—work, physical exercise, and everything in between—makes itself known.

“I guess it’s time for a wash,” he mutters under his breath, glancing down at his furry chest. A grin slowly spreads across his face as he imagines the tiny human still there. “Ha! Lucky for him, he'd be knocked out by now.”

The Great Builder turns and heads back to the mountain where his belongings are stashed, ready to reclaim them.

As he stands, another unexpected sensation catches his attention. He feels a rough, tingling friction near his hips. He looks down to see what’s happening and smiles.

“So late, yet you’re so awake.”

The prominent bulge in his underwear brushes against the pine trees on the ledge of the mountain, though it would be more accurate to say that it twists and bends them, forcing their trunks to bow to the earth with nothing more than its weight. The giant shifts his body and releases the poor trees, which bounce back to their rightful position,  as if they were reeds struggling to stand up.

In a swift motion, he tosses his pants over his shoulder and strides toward the deep mountains, determined to put an end to the discomfort before the pull of sleep consumes him.

“Night’s perfect for a dip in the lake.”

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