"Lo! There are things need be done" growled Geat, biting his teeth and growing his arms. "Go to bed," Thanette almost replied. But it was too late; Geat was huge. His fingers had assumed all disproportion, and his neck was fast becoming tremendous enough to support his impossible head.
"Take it!" he bellowed, just as he conquered the bedroom door, and flew out into the cool, but evenly buffeted midnight air.
"Bloody the billows! Turbid the tide!" Geat screamed, as he began sailing across the 12:40 a.m. sky at a constant velocity and a height of seventeen feet -- just the right height for 12:40 Hrunting.
His feet were huge. Righteous, and huge. But though his feet were perfect and enormous, he had no idea how much time had passed, or how long he'd been doing things that needed to be done. He was however certain that he had demolished four second stories and nine minute rooms. Nine at least.
He was truly the wulf, and this his night work? It pleased him.