George sat quietly beside the strange lady in his treehouse, watching her sleep beneath a blanket of soft leaves. He tilted his head, studying her face, her strange clothes… and other unfamiliar features. “Hmm… not man,” he mumbled to himself. “Definitely not monkey.”

He blinked at her chest, just for a second, then looked away quickly. “Something… different.”

From behind, Ape spoke up dryly, arms crossed. “Yes, George. That’s called a woman.”

George turned, eyes wide. “A woman? From outside jungle?”

Ape stepped closer, ever the gentleman. “Indeed. And if I may suggest—perhaps don’t stare at her like a confused baboon.”

George scratched his head. “Sorry. George never see… all this before.”

“She’s human, George,” Ape said patiently. “Just like you. Only… not raised by apes.”

George glanced back at her, still amazed. “She pretty. And soft. And weird.”

Ape sighed. “Yes, well… I imagine she’ll think the same about you.”

George smiled proudly. “Hope so.”