He moved slowly, with every sense alert, hunting for his prey in the darkness. Every step he took was carefully calculated so as to make no sound at all. He breathed softly, doing nothing that might betray his presence. Everything depended on surprise.
She kept still as well, with closed eyes, concentrating on any hint of where her pursuer could be located. Here nose twitched a little. It would be easier if she could smell him, but that wasn't an option. She didn't dare move. It would instantly give away her location. It was hard to stay calm, but she did what she could, concerned that he might be sensitive enough
I've been bumming around today. I did a little cleaning. I did a little writing. I watched a little TV and some online stuff. I snuck in a brief nap, and spent a while giving the cat attention (he was most insistent on this).
But none of that really clicked. And then I thought: cookies!
They're chewy mol
The world looks different to a sufficiently gigantic giantess. When I head out to the car (soon I hope, because I'm really ready for the weekend to begin). I'll wander down a hallway, push my way through a couple of glass doors, make my way across an asphalt parking lot, climb into my car and drive off.
I might hear some gravel crunch underfoot, but that's it. It's a pretty innocuous way of interacting with the world. Which is probably for the best...
But for a giantess a significant chunk of the world may be below shoulder, hip, or ankle height. The ground is going to always react to footfalls, whether it's the sin