Portrait of a Gentle Giant

This was no ordinary man. He was a huge, powerful, giant being. A creature who could crush a full grown man within his boulder-sized fist. A creature who, with a single wrong move, could destroy a city or kill a crowd. This monstrously sized man loomed above for seemingly miles, looking down at your pitifully tiny body. His hulking frame was rippling with muscles, all taut and flexed, bulging out like that of a prized bull. His giant chest heaved with each breath, making his pectorals flex momentarily. On all the masses of muscles, dark hair grew on his arms, legs, belly, back, and chest, making him look like he was part gorilla or bear. He stands over cities and drenches them in his shadow.

Despite his immense bulk, his face was soft. Gentle gray eyes were hidden by thick eyebrows, peeking out shyly at all he met. A mop of shaggy brown hair fell to his shoulders, framing his square face. A shy smile brought out his vulnerable and sensitive soul. The hair that grew on his strong jaw made him all the more menacing, but a soft smile would make the feeling of danger melt away.

Such a massive mountain of flesh and bone would be expected to proclaim himself as god of all that witnessed his majesty and demand worship, yet instead he simply waved a bashful hello and continued on his way. Here was a lumbering beast with a touch so tender, butterflies would seek his fingertips to land on, knowing they'd be safe in his hands. Human children would use his colossal sleeping form as the setting for their games, clambering over the hilly muscles and trekking across his broad chest and back while their prejudiced parents drove him away. How people could be so cruel to these magnificently tender giants, no one knows. It seems that only children cry when they are struck down for their fierce appearance.