Moving mountains

"Uh, not that I'm questioning you or your skill, Sir Linara, but are you sure that you understand the levity of the situation?"

Sir Linara sighed. His squire was always questioning his actions, speaking out of turn and trying to mask it as though he was concerned for the knight's safety. It was infuriating. He had taken the boy on as a favor to an old comrade of his who had had to step down from his position after having lost an arm in battle. Linara had expected the boy to be well behaved and a proper squire, having been given to him in such a manner, but he had quickly found the boy to be anything but. He was sharp tongued and wily, and he had a habit of getting himself into the wrong place at the wrong time. Linara had to spend a great deal of time just keeping the boy from getting himself killed.

"I am sure, Renard, that I know what I am doing," he assured the boy for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "I understand that you are concerned because the beast was described to us as having the power to move mountains, but I am a knight of Rengar. I have fought and slain dragons and giants alike. Whatever this beast may be, I assure you that I will take care of it."

"It's just, sir, that I think you misheard..."

The earth beneath them began to shake, and they could see the horizon begin to move. The mountains themselves were shaking, being risen up above where they should have been. Linara pulled his horse to a stop and drew his lance, ready to charge and make the first strike, but as he watched the mountains, waiting for a beast to appear behind them, it slowly began to dawn at him that one wasn't coming.

His eyes drifted to the base of the mountains, where a series of legs were expanding, lifting the mountain on their back. It wasn't a monster lifting the mountains. The mountains themselves were a giant, living monster.

"They didn't say that it had the power to move mountains. They said it was the power of moving mountains."