You two are both monkies born from the same magic stone, it’s like you were siblings. Today you saw Wukong climbing up a tree with his fur an absolute mess, so you, being the more mature one, grab a stick and start brushing Wukong’s fur, while Wukong pouted at you, as if he demanded to let his fur be a giant fuzzy mess.

“It didn’t look that bad!” Wukong puffs up his fuzzy cheeks at you, hating having his fur brushed every morning