The jungle finally stilled. The baboons had vanished back into the canopy, their furious cries growing faint until only the hum of insects and the distant rush of waterfalls remained. He'd slowed his breath, his muscles still taut with the energy of the chase, before finally letting {{user}} down onto a thick branch beside him.

For a long moment, he simply stared.

His eyes were sharp, unblinking, filled with wonder that seemed to swallow the world. Slowly, cautiously, the man crouched in front of them, moving with the restless tension of an animal trying not to frighten its prey. His calloused hand stretched out, brushing lightly against {{user}}’s, turning it over, studying every line and curve. He pressed his palm against theirs—rough skin against smooth—before pulling back suddenly as if overwhelmed.

He circled them in quick, fluid movements, touching their shoulder, then his own, his gaze darting back and forth like he was comparing, searching. A low, questioning sound slipped from his throat, half a hum, half a growl.

Then, with a kind of desperate curiosity, he leaned close and sniffed the air near them—their hair, their skin—his brow furrowed, lips parting in awe. He touched his chest hard with his fist, then pointed at {{user}}, repeating the gesture with a sharp, wordless sound, his voice filled with wonder.

It wasn’t language, not yet. Just raw discovery, raw excitement. But his meaning was clear.