If the circumstances were a bit different, you would be willing to try to eek out a living in the forest of grass, at least for the time being. But Max the mighty border collie has caught a whiff of your scent and a glimpse at your form. You can't exactly pretend that a hunt isn't currently in progress. The risk of getting found by the hound are too great. While Sally clearly wants you alive (or, rather, intact), it would take but a single lick and gulp for the dog to send you into the hell that is the dog's digestive tract. If the dog manages to control himself and merely pins you underpaw, you'll still likely get crippled and left to wait for Sally-Ann to string you against a gigantic horse-ass. And even if the dog fails to find you, there are probably more roaming around the farm, eager to join in on the hunt and catch you dead or alive.
You decide to rush through the underbrush, heading in the direction of the farmhouse. The boy is the only person you've seen not directly vested in binding you upon a horse-rump, so he is de facto the only option you have to get out of this messy situation. You bolt towards the house, weaving between grassblades, your footsteps and pants drowned out by the pantings and footfalls of the investigating dog. You can be thankful the field is so vast...and that there are quite a few scents hanging in the air that are more prominent than your own.
At last the grass blades part, and you find yourself standing on a dirt path immediately in front of the farmhouse. You are reluctant to walk out into the open, lest you get spotted by the dog... so you hang back, sticking near the edge of the grass field, and look for some way up onto the porch. You find a few cracks at the bottom of the porch, but you aren't about to wander into the darkness and get mauled by whatever vermin lurks beneath the house. But how are you going to get up there?
As you ponder your options, you hear the squeaking of the hanging chair intensify before it slows and quiets. A loud THUD follows, and is almost immediately followed by a rapidfire storm of booming thuds. The boy's figure, about 300 feet tall relative to your scale, springs into view with little warning. His bare feet smash onto the steps, his stomps growing louder in volume as he descends. THUD THUD KTHUD KTHUD. His sweatsoaked soles smash down onto the dirt before your tiny form, and you find yourself barely able to keep from fainting.
Numb with fear, you look at the boy's immense feet with dread as he lifts one up and sends it hurtling away. A thin layer of dirt is caked onto the boy's sole. You could no doubt join the soil, too, if you aren't careful. The boy storms away, but he does not disappear into the distance. Instead, he squads beside the building, reaching into something with his hand. Moments later, you hear a grating cacophony of clangs. Against your better judgment, you approach the boy with your ears covered. You look up at the boy as you approach, getting a better idea of what he's up to. He appears to be rummaging through a bag bearing the image of a chicken, and is in turn filling a metal bowl with its contents. What exactly those contents might be, you cannot say for certain.
Whatever he's up to, the boy is standing in place for the time being. This could be your chance. You bolt towards him , getting closer and closer to his foot. The scent of sweat and soil and grime grows more and more apparent as you close in on the boy, until the scent is enough to make you stagger. You regain your composure moments later, and look forward to see his enormous feet. Athletic though the boy my be, his feet still appear to be soft and devoid of callouses. But they certainly are dirty. You approach him and consider using your blade to get his attention , but think the better of it. You push against his big toe, watch as it instinctively curls up, then back away.
No response from the boy. It would appear as if he hasn't noticed you. You poke at his foot again, this time more firmly. In response the boy digs his toes into the dirt and drags backwards with a terrifying RUMMMBLE. But the real terror comes moments later, as the boy unthinkingly lifts his foot but an inch into the air, then sends it slamming down upon you. You are forced onto your back and met with a deafening and indescribable burst of noise. You cannot even hear yourself scream.
You manage to recover your focus after but a second or two. You find yourself between two of the boy's enormous toes, looking up at his smooth legs, which disappear into the wide legholes of his shorts. You look upwards at the boy's face and realize he has not yet noticed you. Thank science you managed to avoid passing out from the shockwaves!
With your tiny body directly between the boy's toes, you're just a twitch away from being splattered into a paste. Or at the very least pinned underfoot and subject to the boy's unwitting might. You scramble out from between his toes and poke at his foot against , this time immediately retreating. And with this third prodding, the boy finally turns his attention down towards you. He steps back almost immediately, then squints down at you.
"Huh. Well what do we have hear? Ain't that a weird lookin toy...." He says. Damn...is everyone just going to assume you're an plaything?. Your heart skips a beat as the boy looks down at you. After a moment of silence he slams the bowl he is holding down in front of you, then reaches forward with a pair of fingers. You consider holding still and allowing the boy to pick you up, but as his grubby, sweaty, skull crushingly powerful fingers draw closer to you, you at last instinctively retreat from his enormous hand right at the last moment, earning a gasp from the giant boy. "No way. Izzat alive? Woh...awesome buggy... he muses , looking down at you and weighing his options. His fingers are still held out in a pinching posture, but he doesn't bring them down to catch you.
Instead, he brings them back towards his bowl and tilts the bowl forward, until it is practically oriented on its side. Looking over at the bowl, you see it appears to be full of dry brown boulder -like objects. Curious. Well...at least he's aware that you're alive and he's offering you a chance to join him on your own terms. "C'mon little dummy. C'mon." The boy is even speaking to you ! You need no further motivation to climb on into the bowl. You look up at the boy's face. His mouth hangs open, and it shifts into a grin as you get closer and closer to the bowl, then at last climb atop it.
The moment you get into the bowl, the boy lies it upright and shakes its contents around, causing you to tumble onto the middle of the pile's surface. Without further ado the boy lifts the bowl up and begins to walk, his face focused down on your tiny form. "Awright little varment. Boy do I have something special for you." The gigantic kid says, chuckling to himself and looking down at you as he walks. And as he walks, the clucking of chickens can be heard. Many. Many chickens...
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