"I do not know with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones." - Albert Einstein
Marcus traveled along the road, each new step more difficult than the last. It was his third day in a row with no food, and very little water. In his rush to set out on his latest journey, he'd forgone any sort of planning or preparation. There were no towns nearby. Why would there be? Traveling in giant country was dangerous, living within their borders even more so. Maybe he could ask a passing giant for assistance? The thought made him chuckle, even as he fought off pangs of hunger. Next time, provisions would be taken care of first. Next time.
He collapsed in the dirt. The muscles in his legs finally gave up. His body could push no further without food or water. Now he could only sleep. As his eyes grew heavy and his vision dimmed, he felt a sudden pressure on his back. Something strong was forcing his body further down into the dirt, compressing him. He normally would have struggled against the menacing weight, but with no energy left in him, he blacked out instead.
Marcus woke with a start, gasping for air, with his heart pounding in his chest. It felt more like hed been resurrected from the dead than simply regaining consciousness. His senses slowly returned to him. The ringing in his ears dulled from a shrill scream to a low hum. The ground he was lying on felt different than he remembered. It was softer, warmer, and the dirt was gone. Rubbing his blurry eyes, he sat up to inspect his surroundings. A huge face stared back at him, two piercing blue eyes watching him intently. The ground beneath him wasnt ground at all. It was her massive hand. She must have picked him up while he was unconscious. Marcus gathered as much. He fit snugly in her palm. If she closed her hand into a fist, if she felt so inclined, his life would be painfully wrenched from his frail body.
Are you okay? I wasnt certain youd ever wake up.
Marcus managed a one-word reply, thirsty, it was the best he could do. He wasnt sure she could even understand what he had said. Truth be told, he barely understood the dry, raspy croaking sound that escaped his lips. A leather flask, the largest flask hed ever seen, rose from somewhere below. There would be enough water in it to drown him 10 times over. He waited for a torrent of rushing water to pour over him and wash him from her palm. The fall to the ground far, far below would surely be lethal.
Ill pour it slowly. I think you only need a little.
The water trickled into her open hand, forming a small pool around him. Marcus wasted no time. He unabashedly lapped at the water in her palm. The cool water stung his dry throat, causing him to sputter and cough.
Drink it slowly. Dont choke yourself.
Her words reminded him that he wasnt alone. If anything, he was being held captive, literally being held. It didnt matter. Cool water entering his body was all that mattered. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly. He may have forgotten about food, but his stomach had not.
You poor thing! Here, I have some food for you.
His ears perked up at the mention of food. Thinking of eating something made his dry mouth water. Bits of dried meat and bread crumbs fell from her fingertips. To her, they were surely nothing but crumbs. But for a starving man such as himself, a feast was raining down from the heavens, delivered by an angel no less.
Is this real? Are you real? He managed to ask with a mouth stuffed full of bread and meat.
She laughed quietly. Yes, Im real.
I take back every mean thing I ever said about giants.