He had heard whispers amongst the herd, but, still, Ivan was indeed caught with his pants down—or, rather, his skin skilts skipped town?—when he awoke to find that he was the only antelope who did not elope—and that, now, amidst a lush hush, he was lone, lea was free, and, oddly enough, scape coated his nape like a hug of snug, remedying distancing, departing pull of rug. ; )