In addition to The Little Prince I was thinking of the bit in Plague Dogs where the author argues that animals actually suffer more, rather than less, than humans from physical and emotional pain, as, lacking intellect, abstraction, the ability to imagine alternative presents or futures beyond escape, the fear or pain whelm their awareness completely.

I am a story-spinning beast and I can get all /kinds/ of use from feelings of helpless fear when I wanted to whimper and cry and curl up in a ball and had to get up and do the same thing over and over again…because sometimes the story needs the ratchet, the desperation, the feeling of crying helplessness to make any victory sweeter…

But to the best of my knowledge bats do not tell stories, they would have no way to communicate the experience to another bat. No benefit. No shared release.

And so, I hope bats operate by New Who rules where the bat forgets all about the Eldritch Abomination it encountered in the Unliving Fairy Realm and manages to go far away that they never have to be frightened by hearing or smelling me if I go out on the balcony.

I had the foxes that were bred for fear alongside the tame silver foxes in Siberia in mind with the notion of being 'un-tamed'. Being (temporarily) in a state of heightened vigilance.

To me you were a bat
Like any other bat

The thought of flight
Across the moon
Cold air beneath imagined wings
A fancy of what sound can see
Un-thought-of on your own

To you I was a monster
Like any other monster
Straight moving, slow,
Never a danger
On the ground

No need of me
No fear of you
Nor need nor fear
Of you or me

And now to me there is
The sound of a wing
That is different
From all other wings

My heart leaps still
At the thought of it
It calls to me
From every creak

Or pop or whisper or
Nothing at all. Bats
Live long enough you
May remember me when
I'm gone. I hope not

I mine my nightmares
Show them as trophies
Sing hymns to dread
I have been blessed

If
You tell no tales
Of fear for fun
Forget me, please

To me, you are unique,
You have
Un-tamed me
With a touch

Macros meet skyscrapers rooftop-to-eye
Megas dwarf cities, they stand miles high
Gigas span continents, mountains at play
Teras take planets to steal them away
Petas wear stars like jewels in a crown
Exas hold galaxies, fur soft as down
Zettas press cosmoi beneath dwarfing paw
Yottas fill multiverse dwellers with awe

Those are the giants we know of so far
But we’re betting there’s bigger things waiting to “Rarr!”

The Lament of the Firrox
(For sufficiently large values of firrox)

Above the branch that one can reach
There must yet be a second
That leap-and-catch can only graze
Or what’s the point of heaven?

What is one to do on earth
When all terrestrial trees
Have their highest canopy
Just below one’s knees?

Legends tell of trees who cradle
Worlds within their limbs
But telescopic surveys show
Yggdrasils running thin

Look forward to a grander wood
In the Oort-cloud far
Roots drinking comet-water
Leaves Dysoning the star

It is a truth universally acknowledged that one of the best features of living in a city is the public transportation. Sure, as a giant fox I could pretend to be a car and run through the streets. But just because one can walk doesn't mean one never wants to hoverboard.

So I waited at the nearest bus stop and hopped on board! By which I mean I stepped onto the bus with one paw, with my heel right at the back, and positioned the other almost atop it, so my toes didn't obscure the windshield. Then used my arms and tail to balance. That was the fun part, feeling my inertia and shifting my weight when the bus put on the gas, braked suddenly, or took a sharp turn.

Soon I was down-town.

It's not STRICTLY in accord with traffic laws, but when making my way through traffic jams I've been known to pick up a few cars so I have a place to step, putting one foot down, gathering a couple more cars in the other hand, and putting my other foot there, lifting the first so I have a spot to put down the first set. And so on and so forth until either the traffic jam has ended or I get to my destination.

Either that or they decide to be spoil-sports and leave fox-paw-sized-gaps between every few cars so I don't have a reason to pick them up. And where's the fun in that?

I hadn't brewed any tea since embiggening this year. And didn't have enough. So I was down town going to the tea shop. I asked them to order a few crates of various sorts for me. One crate is about enough for a single gongfu session.

I've been in the mood for greens, whites, and lighter oolongs, lately.

I also needed to get a bit of hardware. And so I went to a pool services store and got a hot tub and an above ground pool of the same size. It turns out trying to get someone to blow glass or fire ceramics on this scale is actually pretty hard.

Hot tubs are big, designed to handle hot water, easy to clean, and have an adjustable temperature control.

The downside is that because nobody involved in making or using them wants the occupants to be made into soup, they have safety devices that keep the water from getting hot enough to brew tea.

Safety devices that are easily bypassed!

So I filled up my hot tub with some fresh water and dialed it to 85°C and as it came to temperature I filled the swimming pool almost full with tea. I got a cover for it, so it's like a big, outdoor gaiwan. Once the hot tub was up to temperature, I poured it all into the pool, put on the cover, and waited twenty seconds.

Then used one of those pool skimmer nets as a tea strainer and poured it back into the hot tub. May as well use it as a cup. Buying two whole swimming pools would just be excessive.

Unless I'm having another giant over for tea. Then it'd just be good hospitality. Perhaps I can convince some of my large friends that they should get into tea, or convince my tea-drinking friends that they should get into being large.

Yes. This is an excellent idea!

Nothing beats four-paw-drive when it comes to running down the road at highway speeds, but one should never underestimate the advantages of thumbs.

Bipedal then, today, sixty-four metres tall, when I decided to take a prowl. Late enough, past midnight, that there isn't too much traffic. At this size my prowling speed is definitely above the speed limit. My paws are also big enough, at this scale, that I feel more suited to walking the roads than the sidewalks. Not that I couldn't, but there's less tiptoeing and carefully edging around everywhere.

It's just below freezing. −1°C, to be precise. So the blacktop is cold under my paws. Any ice I stand on is going to melt fairly quickly, especially since it's been warm enough all day that any ice would be pretty thin.

The rule of bicyclists applies to foxes, too: if you're on the sidewalk, be a pedestrian. If you're on the road, be a car. So of course I stayed below the speed limit, stopped at the traffic lights, and used my turn signal.

There are manual turn signals, of course. That you make by sticking your arm out the window, but my paws are black. My flag (did you know that's the name of a spot of different color on the tip of ones tail?) is a bright, reflective silver. Shows up much better in the night. So when making a left turn I'd swish-FLICK my tail from straight down to left repeatedly, and when making a right turn, I'd swish-FLICK my tail from down to right repeatedly.

One has to be careful not to become too happy or excited when in traffic when using tailcode turn signals, it might cause a multiple-car-and-one-fox pileup.

Most people, when they find themself behind a giant fox waiting at a traffic light, don't honk the horn or yell, even the kind of folk who might be inclined to do so when behind a car. So hearing both honking and yelling was a surprise.

And it was my fault. I'd been standing with one paw in each lane on a two-lane road, so my right foot was blocking the right turn lane.

So I really did the only thing I could, balanced on my left paw and lifted the right, just enough that the cars could drive under. One person kept acting like it was a trap and I was going to stomp on their car or something while they were driving underpaw…

I don't know what kind of jerk they think I am. Or what kind of fool. If I were the sort of person to go around smashing cars I'd have done it already. So I just stepped back, put one paw on the driveway and one on a lawn and bowed, beckoning them to go forth.

I think the way I smiled scared them more than if I'd acted angry. Some people.

After that I didn't have any more issues with traffic. I just prowled along at a nice speed, fast enough to feel the wind in my fur, clearing overpasses with a light skip.

Being this tall makes me wish I lived in a place with more skyscrapers. I'd love to visit a friend at work and chat with them through the window, or have them come up on the roof to meet me.