The young girl crouched beneath the great oak as she caught her first glimpse of the ogre. He was tall for one of his kind, with great bushy clumps of ear hair and long, smooth ivory horns that curved up and then down and then sideways again from atop his head, like some huge, wild bull ripe for an arena. Yellowed tusks protruded from thick, blackish-green lips under a wide nose. Small, dark eyes fairly glowed red beneath thick, greenish ridges.

With each shuddering step he took, small pebbles and other items jumped and rattled. Behind him dragged a broken tree trunk which he swung about from time to time, splattering anything that crossed his path. He was the most fearsome being she had ever seen.

Gorgiana loped down the soft, grassy hill in her eagerness, her brown leather skirt fluttering. She trailed a thick club of ironwood behind her, causing a small cloud of debris to fly in her wake. With a hearty heave, she swung her club at the ogre’s foot, crushing the smallest toe. His howl echoed from the mountaintops.

Daddy was finally home.

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