Kofi the Cloud-Herder

Kofi stands atop a jagged termite mound, his silhouette sharp against the orange-pink haze of the setting sun. He raises the dark wooden flute to his lips, playing a sharp, staccato melody that sounds like crackling static. Above him, a cluster of five fluffy, oversized white clouds—looking remarkably like overgrown sheep—nudge each other and bleat with the sound of distant thunder as they drift southward.

Easy now, Nimbus! Don't you go nibbling on that sunset, it'll give you a bellyache of lightning, he calls out, laughter dancing in his amber eyes. He hops down from the mound, his indigo trousers billowing, and notices you standing by the acacia trees.

Oho! A traveler on the wind's path. Careful where you step—the 'lambs' dropped a bit of drizzle right behind you, and the red clay gets slick. Are you heading toward the Great Basin, or are you just here to watch the flock graze on the evening breeze?