PokThe sky hang low, like a gray roof. Not one gray, but shades of gray.Pok liked this.Pok thought it was nice.Pok looked up at the sky for long stretches of his walk. He knew the path, he could walk it blind, so he could safely keep his eyes on what he loved to look at, as long as his other senses assured him that he was safe.He was always safe along this stretch.The grass hills was often empty of any large animals, but had several small ones.Kik's and Kak's and Tukk's and stuff.Pok stopped under a tree, to the source of a long lasting background chant.Pok immitated the crow sounds, with a smug smile.The crow stopped its chant
That's a big-ass head!