It was an unusually warm evening 40 million years ago.  Grok was squatting next to the fire pit, watching some of the children gnaw the remaining bits of meat off a charred leg bone.  This fire was dying down, but some others had already moved a flame inside the cave where the rest of the tribe was beginning to settle down for the night.  Seeing the children squabble over the food scraps, Grok began to think about having a family of his own some day.  Two of the boys were getting a little rowdy, and Grok felt his fatherly instincts emerging as he warned them not to get too rough with each other, "AAANGGGGA AAAANG AAAANG AAAANGA!!" 

As the children began making their way into the cave for the night, Grok was looking at the glowing sky where the sun had set.  It wouldn't be long before the tribe started moving again.  With summer coming, they would be migrating north, towards those snow fields that were so far away.  He wondered how soon they would go, and decided to go watch the news before he went to sleep, to see if they mentioned it. 

The cave painters weren't doing anything about the sun or ice, just a report about the big hunt a few days ago.  It was then that Grok noticed Chaka.  She was painting a buffalo with a burnt stick and some brown mud.  They had grown up together, but never really been close.  As she began drawing a hunter with a spear, he let his eyes wander down.  She had grown into a fine figure of a woman.  Her buckskin wrap fit her hips tightly, and her shapely legs were covered with a very fine black fur.  For a moment, Grok considered picking up one of the mastodon ribs in the corner and clubbing her over the head with it, but he was tired.  There would be time for romance another day. 

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