Old Grandad

Old Grandad woke very slowly from his centuries-old slumber. He nearly didn't awake at all, in fact a few decades later none of this could have happened. When a Troll gets old and starts to think seriously about the universe it normally finds a quiet spot and gets down to some hard philosophizing, and after a while starts to forget about its extremities. It begins to crystalize around the edges until nothing remains except a tiny flicker of life inside quite a large hill with some unusual rock strata.
Old Grandad hadn't quite got that far. He awoke from considering quite a promising line of enquiry about the meaning of truth and found a hot ashy taste in what, after a certain amount of thought, he remembered as being his mouth.
He began to get angry. Commands skittered along neural pathways of impure silicon. Deep within his siliceous body stone slipped smoothly along special fracture lines. Trees toppled, turf split, as the fingers the size of ships unfolded and gripped the ground. Two enormous rockslides high on his cliff face marked the opening of eyes like great crusted opals.
Rincewind couldn't see all this, of course, since his own eyes were daylight issue only, but he did see the whole dark landscape shake itself slowly and begin to rise impossibly against the stars. ~ The Light Fantastic - Terry Pratchett.

I read that page and was inspired. lol
I tried my hand at highlighting and failed epically. O.o

Rincewind, Old Grandad (c) Terry Pratchett
Art (c) me (Amy)