“Be careful, Henry, there are giants beside the valley.”, or so used to tell you your late grandfather. Thinking about this makes you slightly chuckle, now that you are 23. Your grandfather used to be a traveler, as you soon will be.
Surely thirsting as much as you do to visit other places, your bag lies on your bed, full to the brim of clothes, camping supplies, rations and other elements you might need on your journey to the East. Remaining seated on the corner of your bed, you slightly bend over to put your brand-new shoes on and tie them into a knot tighter than you usually prepare. Once done, you let out a soft sigh and throw a glare around the room. This used to be your bedroom, and it will miss you without any doubt. Your oak wood desk, the shelves above it colored by the multitude of books you previously read, different keepsakes from your childhood and your camping trip with your father and brother in the forest surrounding the village.
You gently put your hands on your knees, and start pushing on your arms to get up. You let out a last nostalgic smile to the room, before going for the door, carefully opened and closed a few seconds later. You exhale a second time as you face the other side of the entry, and go toward the stairs, going as a steady yet careful pace, as you wouldn’t want to hurt yourself before your adventure begins.
Once at the street level, this sense of nostalgia has been renewed; reaching the living room in which you ate most of your meals, with the wooden table and chairs your family owns. You take a last glimpse of the family portraits hanging on the walls by a small rope which you always imagined getting cut by even the lowest flow of air. You turn toward the house exit, gently putting your gloved hand onto the knob, and turning it as gently. The sunlight immediately dazzles you for a short period, turning your apprehensive smile into a frown, which you then quickly lost for a neutral expression. The streets are empty, as everybody is currently at their respective workplaces. You quickly turn to your right, toward the exit of the village, as you do not want to cross anyone’s path. Saying goodbye is not a simple thing for you to do, so you prefer to skip it altogether. The exit of the village is reached within a few minutes, the background changing from similarly-scaled houses to forest trees. You turn around to enjoy the vision of your village one last time before finally departing for new horizons.
The forest gets more monotonic than the village, as all the trees look the same, and any spotlight-worthy element has already been discovered during your earlier camping trips. One hour or so has passed before you reach the outskirts of the valley. The forest that lies beyond looks much more appealing, with a lot of different trees: oak trees, birch trees, coniferous trees, maple trees, and many others. You take some time to turn around yourself to observe the different leaves in the environment; including the many shades of red and oranges the maple leaves carry. Similarly, the trunks possess a lot of variety in color, shapes and texture. Further along the small dirt path, you notice a dark brown trunk that seems to be very smooth. Surprised to see one that different, you head toward it, noticing its smoothness makes the wood look like skin. Arriving at its roots, you decide to touch it—without noticing that there is no root, but a foot at its bottom. As you predicted, the ‘tree’ is very smooth at the touch; however, you heard a small sound similar to someone being surprised. You remove your hand in surprise, and start looking around you, expecting to see a person alongside you in those woods. You fail to notice anyone around you, or even the movements that the supposed ‘tree’ is making. By the time you look back at the dark trunk, you noticed that it has bent in a weird fashion, with a second trunk appearing to its right. Taking a closer look, you notice a third trunk with a foot-shaped root. The realization hits you quickly. You freeze, and start looking above. Indeed, it was not a tree, but a giant. Taken over by panic, you slowly start stepping back, as you observe the giant—giantess, rather, given the breast you notice shortly after. You take another step back, and see her face: a deep brown and round face with ebony hair in a short layered cut and hazel eyes. One step back further, and you feel your back hitting a trunk behind you. You notice the giantess making a surprised expression, her left hand over her mouth. “Are you alright?” she asks shortly after.