“Thanks for coming with me. I don’t think I could’ve done this alone,” Guillermo sighed, looking out as Nandor clung to a tree branch, trying to reach an apple despite the many lower. Laszlo and Nadja kept pointing higher, insisting that the top apple was always best. Colin ambled around, talking to poor families about the origin of apples.

"They can't even eat apples," he sighed, an exasperation in his tired tone. They had gotten it in their head that 'apple pie' was some sort of human tradition, he guessed. He didn't know, really. He wasn't sure he ever knew what went through their minds.