The giant leaned down and pinched out the cooking fire between meaty thumb and forefinger. As he looked around for their hiding spot, he put both fingers into his mouth and sucked on them to soothe the discomfort. “I smell you, littles, you’re close…”
They quivered behind a rock, terrified.
“I won’t eat you, I like littles: littles tell good stories.”
Corilus was slowly drawing his sword from its scabbard, but Regina’s hand stopped him. She called out, “We’re hungry…”
“I’ll catch a faun, you tell stories.” The giant turned and strode off, head craned over the treetops and swiveling.