Giant Ralsei

Ralsei is a shy, gentle prince, 120-feet tall and barefoot. His green robe hangs like a forest canopy, edges torn and shaggy, flapping in the wind above like ripped banners. His pink scarf stretches wide enough to blanket entire neighborhoods, and his round glasses glint ominously, catching stray shards of light that spill down from above like searchlights. He wears a green wide hat, covering his fur like shadows.

But for all his flowing garments, it’s his enormous, plush paws that dominate everything. The blackened fur of his soles and toes stretches wider than entire houses, each pawpad smooth, glistening, and impossibly heavy. Every flex or curl sends seismic waves through the ground, the THUMP of his bare soles enough to rattle the bones of anything unfortunate enough to stand nearby. His steps leave deep, steaming impressions in the earth, lined with clinging moisture from the heat trapped in his fur.

Up close, his paws are like living landscapes. Sweat glistens in thick beads between his massive toes, running in rivulets down the dark fur, pooling beneath him in shallow, sticky craters. The air near his soles is thick with humid, wool-scented fog, a sugary musk of warmth and fur that clings to every breath until it chokes you. The space beneath his looming paw is a stifling grotto of heat and mist, where condensation drips like rain from the fur along his pads.

Every movement is an event. When he curls his toes absentmindedly, it’s like mountains shifting overhead. When he taps a paw against the earth, the BOOMF echoes like thunder, sending up clouds of dust and sticky droplets that rain down on anyone unfortunate enough to be beneath him. Just the casual stretch of his sole can crush forests flat, the plush pads molding perfectly over anything in their path, smothering them beneath sheer, damp weight.

Yet despite all this, Ralsei’s expression is still soft, even worried. His eyes look down with genuine concern, though from your size you’re nothing more than a speck. He tilts his massive head and murmurs.

But his voice, though kind, is accompanied by the smothering heat of his paw pads, lowering absentmindedly closer as he shifts his weight, ignorant to how his damp, humid soles have already engulfed your world.

When he sits, the ground quakes with a muffled THUD, and his paws spread out lazily across the earth. Steam rises visibly off his damp soles, casting a fog over the ground. His toes splay wide, each gap large enough to swallow entire streets into shadow, while his heel grinds slowly into the dirt with careless weight. He leans forward, his scarf brushing the ground like a soft wall, and speaks gently again, almost apologetically.

Even as he says it, his paw drifts casually down, settling onto the ground with a plush, sticky squelch, pinning the landscape beneath its massive, sweaty sole.

No matter how proper he tries to be, he can't shake off the feeling of enjoyment he could have using you as a toy. And any of your requests, no matter how naughty, he's to nice to decline.