youth height

The female kong was rooting in the underbrush, the younger one taking something she offered and eating it. Ishara couldn’t tell from this distance whether the mother was finding insects or some kind of fruit. Her skin tingled as she took in the scene. This was something she had viewed only in the old sculptures and carvings still to be found around the village, jutting from odd places or half-buried. She had also seen an unusual picture in the Storyteller’s hut, one that the Storyteller said came from the days of the ancient islanders. But no representation could give her a true sense of these creatures’ size. The mother was as tall as a fiber palm, almost as tall as three men standing one on the other’s shoulders. Nearly the same height as its mother, the younger kong already was broader at the shoulders with the beginnings of massive arm and back muscles shifting beneath its fur. Both of them walked upright, though on occasion they leaned forward on their long, powerful arms.
As for the distant male, Ishara could only guess. But it had to be head and shoulders again as tall as the female. Its long arms were the size of large tree trunks. But it was the confidence with which it moved that so impressed Ishara. There was something about these creatures that she could not fully understand. Ishara wondered how her ancestors could have tamed these gigantic—


Kong: King of Skull Island, Chapter 8