Woo! I'm finally travelling the world!
Anyway, you accidentally inhaled a small amount of the powder (well, relatively small; you are an enormous tortoise, after all), and through great effort of will I reassemble my consciousness, which is tied to the powder though strained by being spread so far, and reform into a liquid inside your lungs. I find this highly unpleasant but not, I think, as unpleasant as you find it; you promptly die, and I can make my escape, much diminished. Fortunately, we are in Paris, so I raid several stores for stainless steel, and reform anew. I collect my Mace, and make the claim that as I have more of the Hill particles inside my body than anyone else possesses, I have claim over the Hill.
Thus, my Hill (particles). I declare the dead giant tortoise corpse a work of art designed to indict rampant consumerism. Naturally, I am hailed as an artistic genius.