Nature Walk
By Lutro
The late-afternoon sun shone brightly. A calm, warm breeze flitted through the air. Birds sang their final songs of the day. All while a chipper green mare ambled through it all. Withania took a deep, cleansing breath and sighed contently, flicking her head to remove a bit of her autumn-inspired mane from her vision. “What a day,” she hummed happily. The flower pony absolutely adored this time of year, this time of day in particular, basking in all mother nature had to offer. And what a better place to soak it all in than Whitetail Wood? The cozy area not too far off the beaten trail of Ponyville was littered with trees that still clung to their starting-to-color foliage. Carving through it was a well-worn path that Withania found herself taking more and more often as of late. Before the Running of the Leaves would sweep the branches clean the following week, the mare found herself wanting to enjoy what Whitetail Wood had to offer. And enjoy it she did! Withania found herself largely left to her own devices, coming across nopony else on her lovely stroll. She hummed and even skipped along occasionally, losing herself to the day before she’d have to turn back and head for home.

Withania had made it quite a ways into the wood without bumping in to another soul. Even the local birds and squirrels seemed to be vacant, despite the mare hearing the occasional chirp or chitter. That didn’t bother her in the slightest, though, as she wasn’t here to bird watch! No, getting away from it all was the main reason she found herself traipsing through Whitetail Wood. Withania knew she’d have a quiet, peaceful time to herself. With not a creature around to so much as–

“Yo.”

The pony halted on a dime, caught by surprise at the sudden gruff voice. Her head swiveled to its source, peeking backwards over her shoulder with perked ears: Emerging from behind a tree was a large griffon! She stood a head taller than Withania and was adorned with white feathers on her front (a particularly fluffed-out chest at that), and tan lion fur on her back. Typical griffon fare as far as the pony was concerned. Upon the griffon’s head even rested a typical little dishevel of feathers, tips tinted a brownish color that matched her fur. Still, it wasn’t every day a pony bumped into an eagle/lion hybrid out near Ponyville! Withania relaxed some and offered a friendly wave to the encroaching griffon. “Hi there, stranger. Snuck up on me!” The response she got back was muted, the griffon idly flexed her wings as she drew nearer, and nothing more. “Can’t say I’ve seen you around here!”

The griffon had a smirk played across her beak. “Trust me, that’s by design. Weren’t gonna see me unless I wanted you to.” Her tufted tail flicked as her eyes seemed to scan over the earth pony, mane to tail, before continuing. She stood but inches away from the curious mare, looking down eye to eye. “Name’s Glenda. Can’t say I’ve seen you, or anypony so good lookin’ as you, ‘round here before.”

Withania blinked at that the little add-on Glenda threw on at the end. While griffons weren’t known to be shy, this one seemed particularly… forward for a member of the recluse race. The looming griffon and lingering compliment caused a stutter. “W-well, I guess we’ve just never bumped into each other before! My name is Withania. Withania Nightshade.” She politely offered a hoof to shake. Glenda looked it and smiled, taking it daintily in a large talon. The big yellow limb enveloped the pony’s entire hoof, careful grip nonetheless a tight one. The shake was polite and cordial, and made Withania breathe just a bit easier.

“So what’s a gorgeous gal like yourself up to out here in Whitetail today? Just out for a walk?” Glenda knew the forthcoming answer. She knew not only how often Withania made her way out here, but the rough time of day she did as well. Glenda’s smile grew just a bit more when Withania answered in a flustered affirmative.

“Uh, yep! Just out enjoying the sights and sounds of nature, you know? Good to stretch my legs out too.” The mare stiffened when Glenda tip-toed a talon up her leg to rest on her shoulder, before it crawled up to lace through her rusty mane.

“Well, it does wonders for you, Withania Nightshade. Good for your figure…” The encroached talon slipped down the back of the pony’s neck and gave a gentle, massaging squeeze, then continued down her back. “Good to get out. Meet new creatures. Make friends. As ponies do.” Glenda’s smile never left that beak of hers, both pairs of eyes still locked on each other.

“Oh yeah! You got us figured,” the pony answered with a nervous giggle. “Can’t have too many friends, you know?” Withania relaxed when Glenda pulled her leg back. “I’d say I just made a new one, if I’m not mistaken! You… you’re not too awful-looking yourself, you know? Haven’t had the pleasure of meeting many griffons, but you look rather strong. You go out for walks, or flights, a lot too?” The words tumbled from her mouth almost without thought, Glenda having captivated the pony during her relaxing walk, mind at ease, weary from the toils of the day. Withania wasn’t sure if it was the calming waning evening about her, or the charming griffon before, but despite the forwardness of Glenda, the mare felt relaxed. So much so that she took a seat in fact, resting her fetlock-adorned hooves and long legs. In the blink of an eye her griffon acquaintance was sitting beside her, the lion tail flitting over the pony’s own, nodding to the pony’s query. Withania brought a hoof to her mane to toy with it absentmindedly.

“Aye. You’ll actually find me out all over, wherever the sun’s shining. Been in Equestria for years. And if it ain’t sunny, you’ll find me up above the rain clouds. Can’t stand wet weather.” Withania opened her mouth to agree, but only managed a squeak when a large, fluffy griffon wing unfurled and draped itself around her back. The little pony was tugged against the griffon’s side, Glenda giving her wing an affectionate squeeze.

“O-oh! You’re rather… friendly, for a griffon. Or at least… Ponies must be rubbing off on you, being in Equestria for so long.” She looked to Glenda, whose smirk was gone, replaced by a more charismatic grin. Withania had to stifle a second adorable squeak when she felt the griffon’s tail scoot up against her cutie marks. The tuft traced around her rump and over her tail, sending the smallest of shivers up the mare’s back. “Very friendly,” Withania managed to utter after a moment. Glenda laughed and stretched a talon up under her wing to squeeze the captured pony further, it rubbing up under the mare’s chest.

“You could say that,” Glenda admitted. “But it’s not every day a pretty young mare like you wanders on by.” Only Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Sunday. All that cuddling, combined with the continued compliments, put Withania’s mind to ease. Her back-and-forth between uncertainty and complacency was at an end, the mare sinking willingly into the proffered cuddles. The griffon accommodated nicely, large wing encompassing most of the pony, foreleg wrapped around, talon petting and scritching, tail flicking against her backside. “You have a rather lovely complexion. Not to mention your luscious curves…” As she spoke, her tail squeezed around Withania’s flanks, and this time a second squeak did escape. But the pony didn’t care, cheeks flushing.

This is better than a typical nature walk, Withania decided. Trees and sunlight and wild life are nice, but they can’t do what Glenda’s doing… The pony leaned her head down to lazily nuzzle against the fluffy griffon chest, cheek bunching up against the mess of soft, thick feathers. She allowed herself to get lost in the moment, so much so that she didn’t detect the talon stop scratching, instead flowing down her body further. It wasn’t until she felt a gentle squeeze of a flank that she noticed, Withania letting a little moan escape. Her own tail played along the ground erratically. “Mmm… This sure is nice.”

“Yeah… it is,” Glenda agreed as she watched her quarry grow more acclimated to the affections, a forehoof rubbing up against her fluffy crest. The griffon couldn’t help herself, with Withania’s scent presented before her, so close to her beak: She nipped at one of the pony’s ears lightly, tip of her avian tongue tickling the edge and leaving a spot of drool behind. The ensuing little moan from the pony told Glenda that the jig wasn’t up quite yet. Not that it matters. She’s not going anywhere.

With her first taste of the wonderfully-scented pony tickling her beak now, Glenda’s belly growled. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but Withania’s proximity led her to not only hear the tiny noise, but feel it reverberate through Glenda’s chest feathers. The pony chuckled warmly. “Is someone getting hungry? It is rather late.” The griffon echoed her own little laugh, talon guiding up from the mare’s rump back to her side. Only this time, instead of a scritching, loving embrace, it gripped to Withania’s foreleg and pulled. Thoughts of a potential dinner date with the soft griffon vanished in a flash. Withania’s breath caught in her throat as she was pulled out from underwing, feeling the relatively chilly air hit her and making her shiver. The caught breath let loose in the form of a shocked squeak when she was wrung around the griffon and squeezed chest to chest, Glenda leaning down and planting a deep, close-eyed kiss right on her lips. One griffon leg remained wrapped around her back, while the other pressed to her mane, holding her head in place. Glenda moaned through the sudden passionate embrace as her forward advance made her wings flutter at the tips. Withania herself felt a rush of emotion too, though it wasn’t a pair of non-existent wings that tingled for her. The clinging griffon held her tight against her large form as long seconds ticked by. Withania’s eyes rolled to her head during the kiss, fluttering closed and open again when Glenda pulled up and back with a smile to her beak. “G-Glenda…! I…”

The griffon put a claw to the pony’s lips. “You know,” she began, “I have to confess, Withania. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you. In fact, I’ve seen you close to a dozen times by now.” Another whimpering grumble sounded out from the griffon’s belly as Withania took in this new information, still woozy from the kiss. “Every time I’ve seen you walk through Whitetail, with your shapely ass and flowing tail just teasing me, it made me realize more and more that I wanted you. All to myself.”

“You… m-me?” Withania stumbled through words. She couldn’t help but look back at herself, down to her flanks, squished against the dirt, rump protruding ever-so-slightly. “W-well Glenda, I gotta say, I-I’m flattered, truly… C-can’t say I wouldn’t let you have a little fun with me.” The pony’s feeble grin vanished when Glenda laughed in her face. The talon pinned to her mane gently stroked it.

“Oh, not quite that way, my sweet-smelling pony. Though there is a little chemistry there, I’m afraid I’m much more hungry than horny right now.” Withania’s eyes bulged from her sockets when Glenda’s tongue slipped from her beak and traced a drooling trail across a cheek. “And my instincts were right about you: You’re positively delicious and I’m gonna have you all to myself. There won’t be so much as a tailhair left behind after I swallow you down.” Glenda squeezed the pony tight against her soft, inviting chest feathers, Withania writhing against the airtight cuddle that pinned her in place. Her forelegs were jammed against her sides, hinds uselessly angled and fidgeting against the ground. Glenda laughed while Withania pitifully thrashed her head around and squealed for rescue.

“HELP! Somepony help! This griffon’s trying to eat me!!” Withania gritted her teeth and tried to headbutt Glenda, head thumping against the griffon’s upper chest. Glenda rolled her eyes and brought a talon up under the pony’s chin, angling it up towards her beak. Claws gripped to her cheeks, holding the struggling pony firm.

“Nopony for miles, sweetheart. No-one’s gonna stop me from enjoying this luscious meal before me.” Glenda caused herself to drool, a drip of saliva plopping down on Withania’s snout. The earth pony stared cross-eyed at her stained muzzle before gasping when that beak opened before her eyes, wider than she would’ve thought possible. The yawning griffon maw glistened and twitched, long avian tongue unfurling like a red carpet for Withania herself to walk across. Hot, stale breath buffeted the whimpering pony’s face, and the sight of that pulsating, tight gullet in the back made the mare quiver. 

“N-n-no… D-don’t eat me, Glenda! P-please! Don’t!” Her vision was locked at the widened maw before her, and though Glenda wasn’t restraining the mare’s head, she couldn’t help but stare into where she was headed. Where she would never escape from. Reduced to nothing more than a meal. “S-s-stop!”

The corners of Glenda’s beak morphed into a cruel smile, eyes falling lidded at the panicked pony’s pathetic pleadings. Glenda’s pulse quickened, tail flicking in eager anticipation when she thrust her head downward. The world was blotted from Withania’s sight when the griffon maw came down over Withania’s protesting head. The mare’s last panicked squeal died mid-shriek when her quivering muzzle and face bypassed the threshold of the mouth and slid across the warm, slimy tongue. A squelching noise rang in Withania’s ears when the beak clamped shut, tips digging into the top and bottom of her neck. “MMMppph!!!!” Glenda held the terrified pony tightly, truly sampling the pony’s flavor for the first time: Her tongue coiled around the pony’s snout and pressed deep into the fur, squeezing Withania’s cheeks about and digging down to her neck. The slimy thick tongue coiled and uncoiled around the muzzle, seeking out every pocket of meaty pony flavor the griffon had been craving for weeks. Drool flowed freely down the griffon’s catch, thin lines clinging to fur and streaming down Withania’s chest and back. The pony’s mane clung to her head, bunches of it sticking out from the clenched beak in every direction and largely matted down from the hot environment. Glenda bowed her head down lower and opened her beak a fraction, forcing Withania’s head to slide towards the dark, noisy gullet beyond. The griffon purred at the wonderful equine taste, eyes rolling as she swallowed the pony’s muzzle straight down her throat. The griffon’s feathered neck bulged out with the pony’s head, accommodating her meal’s size with ease.

A flood of wild emotions assaulted Withania simultaneously when her head sank into the pulsating tunnel. The lurching undulations, the slimy saliva coating her neck and pooling about her shoulders, the tongue dancing all over her body, the delighted murrs of Glenda echoing all about her… Withania moaned in lieu of any form of protest, much to her surprise. Her body was being claimed bit by bit, shoulders sinking into the maw, rest of her body hugged so tight she could feel her own head bulge pressed against her stomach. The confusing sensations melded in her mind, feeling almost comforted by what seemed to be a warm embrace, only to be overpowered by fear when another gulp or lewd slurp was heard. Regardless, Withania felt utterly powerless and at Glenda’s mercy: The predator was in complete control, and there wasn’t a thing Withania could do about it. Greedy griffon talons slipped down the pony’s sides and cupped to her cutie marks. The mare squealed when Glenda squeezed her those flanks, letting the malleable mass shape and fold about the talons’ claws. The griffon was enjoying every moment of eating Withania alive, gliding the mare’s body up against her own feathered crest and letting hot drool rain freely all about the pair.

And Withania, taking tight quick breaths in the tight throat, flushed, cheeks bright red as she was squeezed down the greedy griffon gullet. The mare’s own active flower twitched and twinged, her butt squeezed tight around her folds and toyed with. Hot saliva drained down her sides, back and belly, leaving Withania's fur a matted sticky mess, almost like she was already completely devoured. The pony’s forelegs fell limp at her sides when they were pulled fully into the beak, whole body going slack as the tingling sensation in her nethers grew. Her lengthy hindlegs, now dangling off the dusty ground, twitched erratically. The griffon talons continued to play up around her tail, abandoning her hips to cup to her rump and give Glenda leverage to force more of the mare inward. The griffon herself felt the calmness grow in her prey, giving her the ultimate sense of satisfaction. Glenda loved feeling the ponies she was eating give up. It was the ultimate expression of giving in to her. They belonged to Glenda at that point completely, to be eaten and treated as nothing more than a thick, squirming slab of meat.

Withania, however, wasn’t quite in such a state of despair. Just as her muzzle poked past the tight sphincter of the stomach, grumbling prison greeting her with a stale stench, pleasurable emotions extinguished the negative ones. In the pitch-dark belly of the griffon, Withania’s eyes rolled. Her tail began to flick and swish of its own accord, lips housed between her legs moistening. She suffered no delusions about her fate, but she didn’t care. The continued thoughts of the powerful griffon swallowing her down inches at a time, sucking her into the tight embrace, squeezing her tender rear end, hearing just how pleasing she was to avian taste buds, was intoxicating. Under the spell at this point, Withania didn’t even blink as her head slid across the stomach floor, distending the griffon’s gut nosily. Nor did she react when Glenda tossed her head up, angling the pony’s rump upward and devouring her down to her belly. Withania’s tail had been flung up and across Glenda’s head, and her hindlegs now remained splayed and motionless. The only active part of Withania were her twitching, tingling folds between her legs, the pony’s moans mingling with the excited grumblings of the griffon’s stomach.

Glenda then perched on all fours, gravity assisting where her talons were moments ago. Her neck and chest bulged and bumped with the vague outlines of the devoured mare, and the furry griffon belly sagged more with each passing slurp, taste, and gulp. She continued clenching her beak around the soft pony, to squeeze out all the tantalizing flavors she had to offer. Saliva squirted free at each contraction, the ground littered with puddles of griffon drool that continued go grow while she ate Withania. The mare’s rear framed Glenda’s beak when another potent swallow squelched more of her down, the griffon taking the opportunity to slither her tongue out and dance across the untasted flesh of the rump and what sat between the cheeks. Withania began to pant more rapidly as the griffon tongue slathered her upper hindlegs in drool, teasing near but not yet touching those dripping folds of hers. The anticipation was driving her mad, the mare picturing herself as mostly a mass in Glenda’s gut, save for honeyed flower that the griffon seemed bent on never t– 

“A-aaahooooh…” Without warning, Glenda’s tongue nestled between Withania’s exposed cheeks, rubbing right up against her nethers. Another wet swallow followed with that tongue pressing deep into the crevice, the middle of the tongue bent inward to slip between the folds. Withania’s own tongue protruded and she panted in the limited-air environment, her head riding up the rear walls of the stomach as more and more of her body was fed inward. Glenda, it seemed, had caught on to just how much… extra flavor the pony was marinating herself in. Withania groaned, Glenda teasing, tasting and slurping, tongue sliding up, down, then up again. Mesmerized, she hardly noted the griffon gulping and her twitching hind legs beginning to coalesce and squeeze together. Glenda’s eyes rolled, that honeyed addition to the already-plentiful meal she was enjoying really spicing things up. The griffon’s beak managed to close after a few more swallows, Withania’s butt more a bulge in the neck than in the cheeks at this point. The mare’s ankles, hind hooves, and tail protruded free from the beak, the rest of her sealed away as a griffon’s dinner.

Glenda lowered her head and slurped the remnants of Withania into her maw. The tongue, so busy rubbing the mare’s lips raw, finally pulled free, just as those honeyed folds became inaccessible. The puffy nethers of Withania could just be made out in the feathered griffon neck, slowly descending down to the ever-growing belly bulging out past griffon hindlegs. Withania was beside herself, sweating and panting profusely, even as her body folded up against herself and her world inverted, head pressing outward against the belly walls under herself. The lurching, pulsating muscles of the throat pressed her marehood every which way and even managed to sneak in every once and again. Glenda was left with a lot of Withania’s pre on her tongue, and used every available speck to coat the remnants of the earth pony to enjoy the combined flavor ‘til the end. Another swallow dragged the seasoned hind hooves into the throat, leaving naught but a flicking tail tip in her now-closed maw.

Several things happened at that moment, after the hind hooves bulged out the griffon’s neck. Glenda flicked her head up and polished Withania off, swallowing her completely whole and making her descent a much quicker one. Withania squealed not in agony, but in ecstasy, her puffy folds dragged hard across the sphincter and squelched into the belly. The rest of her form squeezed in after, leaving her snout budged up between her flanks. The scent of her own eager, teased marehood after the throat’s stimulation set her off, the mare gushing viscous femcum all over herself in spine-tingling splurts. Glenda panted and slurped at her beak after completing her meal, too busy enjoying the aftertaste rubbing her fully-distended belly to note just what was going on within her stomach. She didn’t care what her food did after she ate them, talon sinking into her furry gut while the pony orgasmed in the belly. “Wow, Withania Nightshade. You were definitely worth the wait.” The griffon stood up with an accompanying slosh sounding out from the belly and, once her swaying stomach stalled, began to waddle her way back to where she planned to sleep her meal off. All while Withania lay in a post-orgasm-induced stupor, rocked back and forth in the confines of the belly, awash in her own fluids and that of the griffon’s stomach.

The devoured pony lost all track of time. In the dark, grumbling cavern she had no idea if it was evening, night, or even the next day. Her whole world now consisted solely of the confines of Glenda’s tight, squeezing stomach, and any accompanying noises that followed. However long it was, it was apparent that it was long enough for the griffon to start digesting her meal properly. Tingling acids secreted from the walls of the stomach and Withania, taking up the bulk of the space, was immediately immersed. She let out a confused, dizzying moan, though despite her impending end felt at peace with the whole thing. It was comforting that she was stewing away in a pleasured griffon’s stomach, nothing but a distended bulge dangling down between legs and a faint memory on her tongue. The mare’s thoughts continued drifting as the stomach did its work, and her normally-solid hooves began to droop and disfigure, more liquid than solid as time ticked away. The stomach lurched all about Withania to hold her tight, muscles expanding and rubbing over her fur, assisted further by Glenda having laid down on her side. Withania could feel the impressions that rubbing talons gave, the griffon gently stroking over her own roiling stomach.

The full griffon only laid down a few moments before drifting off that evening. As the griffon slumbered, her belly continued malleating Withania’s body. The mare’s form showed no resistance, slowly melting away inside the gurgling griffon gut. Withania lifted a hoof, body long-since numbed, almost instinctively wiggling it in front of her face. As it brushed against her snout and belly wall (having so little space to work with), the hoof gooified further to the point of being unrecognizable. The mare’s body continued to congeal and melt in the darkness, mixing more and more with the fluids of the stomach, which only served to speed up the process. Her own cum mingled with the mixture, Withania almost able to taste the sweet honey, clouding her thoughts further. Distracting her from the feeling of her snout and other hooves melting away. The belly churned and pushed into the mare, demanding more space from the gooey pony each time. And it was having its way: When the gurgling stomach walls sank into Withania’s flanks, they gave, seeping around the invading belly walls and clinging, squelching, melting to the floor below. The pony’s chest splayed out when pressed from above, folding the mare over herself. Withania’s melted muzzle pressed against her widening folds, which only leaked past her muzzle to drip down beyond her disintegrating mane.

The mare’s last conscious thoughts were peaceful ones as the belly continued folding her into herself, Withania knowing she was feeding Glenda, becoming nothing but pudge and nutrition for the griffon, and the griffon alone, to enjoy. Then, with a particularly loud groan and contraction of the stomach, she passed out, head morphing into a mass of gooey remains on its own, the equine no longer recognizable any anything but a slimy mess in the pitch-black griffon gut.

The dutiful griffon stomach idly churned away overnight, many hours passing, belly simmering down several sizes. By the time morning crept up, Withania was nothing more than soft sagging folds on the griffon’s gut, and an extra layer of pudge lining the griffon’s thighs and furry rear. Glenda yawned awake with a lazy swish of her tail, smacking her beak and licking across its edges. It took two more powerful yawns before she deigned to sit up to all fours, the remaining paunch of her belly wobbling to and for. She stretched like any feline would: Head down, rump up, her sagging stomach rumbling suddenly. Still posed in a stretch, Glenda’s beak parted and a powerful belch ripped from her throat. In addition to stale pony-breath and saliva being expelled, a solid lump unrecognizable to the griffon rolled across the ground, coming to a rest at the end of the tree. Glenda paid it absolutely no mind, moving on to stretch her wings. It wasn’t uncommon for bits of pony to come up the day after her glorious meals, and had no reason to prod at the remains. Withania was just another pony Glenda had observed, stalked, captured, and devoured for dinner. As per her usual modus operandi Glenda took to the skies shortly after awakening. The nomadic griffon would be well-fed for days, which gave her plenty of time to scope out a new, semi-remote location, in order to pick off another stray pony to sate her. The name Withania Nightshade would stick around in the griffon’s mind for a few days, but afterwards wouldn’t even be a memory. Just jiggling pockets of fat on the griffon’s hips and stomach.

The last remaining seed of Withania was left dormant in the fertile land of Whitetail Wood undisturbed, among the colorful leaves and morning sunlight.

*	*	*

An afternoon sun shone again. There was no wind to speak of. What few birds managed to not make their migration yet chirped quietly. Withania groaned. Blearily, she managed to blink her eyes open. What little light managed to pierce the colorful leaves blanketing her form proved blinding, making the exhausted mare throw a foreleg over her face. Her ears flicked as they were assaulted with the sounds of rustling every time she moved her body, the pony emerging from the colorful foliage groggily. She slowly pulled her leg away from her eyes, chancing another opening. This time the sunlight wasn’t nearly so bad, and after an additional series of blinks she opened her eyes fully. “What…?” Various visions, dreams, and emotions flitted through her mind in rapid succession, each forgotten as they were replaced by the next. A nature walk, a griffon, a flirtatious conversation… A yawning beak… a stifling sense of claustrophobia… a tingling sensation under her tail and between– 

“O-oh…” she groaned, stretching her limbs out. Withania found herself leaning against a large tree within Whitetail Wood, and was slightly concerned that she had no idea how she got here, or when. “D-did I doze off?” she stammered through a sudden yawn, before rocking forward to slowly pull herself up onto all fours. She spent a moment brushing clinging leaves out of her mane and flicking more from her tail. The mare peeked up at all the bare branches letting chilly autumn sunlight pour through the wood with impunity. What little warmth there was felt good to the earth pony, having been under the leaves apparently all night. “I’d better get back. Shame I slept through Running of the Leaves,” Withania mumbled as she took to the trail, heading for home and writing her slumber off as extending one of her usual nature walks into a camp out. The botanist made it home without incident, and continued on with her pleasant solitary life without giving her lengthy nature walk any more thought.