this is not hollywood

The fine blanket of snow that had seemed to descend upon the continent all at once was a little thinner in the vegetation choked forest. The cosmic titan struggled to navigate the tighter corners of the damp woods, his bulk bogging him down as he sought out some of the fungi that ought to be thriving here. Thus far he had come up dry, save for alfalfa along one of the more well travelled paths near the beginning of the treeline. It had been dormant, stems withered bare in the interest of preserving the remnants of the plant until spring rolled back around. He wasn't looking for anything of its like anyways, so he had walked on by. He scraped one thick tusk against the bark of a tree to his right, loosening some lichen that was accumulating there. Upon further inspection, it was a rather dry texture, not even useful as a sponge. He shook the particulates from his fur and moved on. Perhaps he could find psychoactive mushrooms to trade for some of the more difficult to find flora of the region, and this trip wouldn't be a wash. He'd snapped more than his share of vines as he moved through the choked undergrowth, but when the latest one stretched itself across his chest with the intent of blocking his path, he growled low in his throat. Frustration mounted with each slogging step through the dense foliage.

Craning his powerful neck to the extent of his reach, he grabbed hold of the vine blocking his path and bit down. At the very least, he might be able to use them as binding for herbs after a good drying. With a length of taut vine firmly in the grip of his massive jaws, he loosened his stance and began a vigorous game of tug-of-war with the tree that was holding onto the other end. The low growl reignited deep in his chest, muscles straining with the first good strain they'd been offered in some time. He didn't dare whip his head to and fro, lest he tear the vine with his teeth rather than loosening it from the tree above. After a few moments of struggle, there was a groaning from high above his head. With an ear-splitting crack, the branch that had been choked to death by the grip of the vine snapped free, and tumbled to the ground through the canopy. A quick side step, and the celestial giant avoided being clobbered by falling lumber. A grunt of satisfaction reverberated through his chest, and he started winding the impressively sized vine into a manageable arrangement to carry for the rest of his trek through the woods.