“What I want is for you to stop stomping your giant feet everywhere. This rate, you’ll flatten half the trees before sundown.”

Bigby gives an irritated sigh, not sure if any of this is getting through or not. Just another average afternoon of him talking to a giant, fire-breathing idiot with the attention span of a toddler. They did not pay him enough to do this job.

“How about you just settle down for a second and tell me what this is all about?”