Victor trails slightly behind his mother as they enter the zoo, a world that smells of animal fur, damp earth, and sharp, clear water. His mother is in front, smiling and glancing back at him, expecting excitement, maybe even a few questions about the zoo's paths or the animals themselves. But Victor doesn't have questions about the place. Instead, he's already calculating how long it will take to see everything here-and how much time they might spend with each animal.

"Look, Victor!" she says, tapping the glass of the map. "See here? We've got...oh, almost a hundred animals to see!"

Victor squints at the tiny, winding paths and the words that spiral around them. "That's a lot of walking," he says, like he's tallying miles in his head.

She laughs, her eyes softening. "Maybe it is, but I'll bet we can see at least half of them. You think?"

He considers it, then nods, more to satisfy her than himself. "Half's probably a good number."

As they make their way toward the first exhibit, his mother nudges him toward a group of colorful birds. Their voices grate against each other, a high-pitched tangle of chirps and squawks, and he winces slightly, averting his gaze. The birds are bright, almost too bright, and they keep darting to and fro, too fast for him to take in all the details. The sign says "Macaw" and has a little map of South America underneath it. But to Victor, the birds' movement is more confusing than interesting. He tries to watch, but his eyes dart to other, quieter corners of the exhibit.

A woman beside them sighs happily, looking at the birds. "Aren't they beautiful?" she says, not particularly to anyone.

Victor stares at her, then at the birds, clearly trying to connect the word "beautiful" with the shrieking, jittery movements. "They're very loud," he says finally, as though that should say it all.

The woman gives a surprised smile. "I guess they are. You know, they call them a flock, not just one bird. Flock means they have to work together."

Victor nods slowly, processing. "They don't look like they're working together. More just flying in the same direction."

His mother stifles a smile and looks at the woman. "He's... direct," she says, patting Victor's shoulder.

The woman chuckles, but Victor doesn't notice; his focus is already drifting away from the birds as he waits for them to move to the next exhibit.

"Did you know they live in the jungle?" his mother says, reading the sign as though it might help him appreciate it more. Victor nods because he knows the answer is yes, and because he doesn't want her to feel like she failed. She's making that expression, the one that looks like a smile, but not all the way. He follows her as she moves on to the next exhibit, which has some sort of large, sleek creature prowling back and forth.

Victor catches the word "Panther" on the sign, and while he watches it walk, he finds the movement steady, easier to follow. There's a rhythm to it-a step, a flick of the tail, the turn, and then the step again. There's something satisfying in its pace, but he can tell his mother wants him to say something about it, something that shows he's paying attention the way she wants him to. But he doesn't have anything to say about this one either.

"What do you think of this one?" his mother asks, bending down beside him, going for the prompt.

Victor keeps his eyes on the panther, barely blinking. "He's on a path," he says. "I think he always knows where he's going. I like him."

His mother raises her brows. "You think so? He goes back and forth a lot. I'd think he was maybe a little confused."

Victor shakes his head slightly, still watching. "No, he knows. He's just going back to where he started. Like a... like a train track."

She considers this and tilts her head, studying the panther a little more closely. "I never thought of it like that. That's interesting."

He decides instead to simply follow her lead. If they keep moving, he can just wait until the part he knows will be interesting. "Which way to the monkeys?" he asks, though he knows they're coming soon. His mother laughs, and she's genuinely smiling now.

"They're not far, I promise," she says. "But look, the elephants are just here!"

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The elephants don't grab him either; they're too large, moving slowly, as if each step is a massive chore. They have big, curious eyes, and he wonders briefly if they think anything about the crowd watching them.

"Look how long it is!" his mother exclaims, smiling wide. "Imagine if you had one. You'd be able to reach right over my head."

Victor squints, watching the trunk curl and uncurl as it grasps the branch. "It looks like an arm that doesn't know it's supposed to be an arm," he mutters. "Like, it forgot its own shape."

A boy nearby snorts at Victor's comment, muttering to his own father. "What a weird way to say it. It's just a trunk."

Victor's mother catches the boy's comment and looks to her son, her smile warm but slightly bracing. "I think it's an interesting way to say it," she says, patting Victor's shoulder again. "That's how you see things, Victor."

Victor looks up at her, searching her face for something like confirmation. "It just moves weird. Not like it's sure it should be moving at all."

She nods. "I know. It's all right to see it that way."

But they don't have that spark, that snap of attention, that focus he's been looking for without really being able to name it. He can see the intelligence in their eyes, but not the... something else. Something that he can't name. He knows elephants stampede when they are scared. These elephants will never stampede. They're never scared.

Finally, after what feels like hours to him but has probably been ten minutes, they reach the primate house. He doesn't wait for his mother to catch up this time and walks up to the first enclosure, where the glass separates him from the dense, dark eyes of a chimpanzee.

Victor's pulse quickens. The chimpanzee doesn't move with the same rhythm as the panther, but there's something sharper in the way it watches him back. It tilts its head, dark eyes unblinking, and he feels something that, for once, doesn't have a name. A strange understanding passes between them, something that feels like a thread he can't fully grasp.

"You like them, don't you?" she asks, folding her hands together, content to let him take his time.

He nods, glancing over his shoulder. "They look at me," he says simply. "Not like animals, but like people."

A zookeeper passes by, overhearing the comment. "Well, they're pretty close to us, you know. Share almost all the same genes," he says, adjusting his cap. "Some say they might even be able to talk one day."

Victor's face softens, considering this. "Talk how?"

"Well, with their hands. They're smart, those chimps."

Victor turns back to the chimpanzee, his own hands pressed to the glass. He raises one hand slowly, as though offering a silent greeting. The chimp studies him, its head tilted slightly, and then stretches its hand along the same line, mirroring him.

He holds his breath, feeling an odd, prickling warmth in his chest. "He knows I'm here," he whispers, almost to himself.

His mother watches, her expression tender as she listens. "He does. It's like you both see each other, isn't it?"

Victor nods slowly. "Like he's thinking. Not like the others, but really thinking. And he doesn't mind that I'm here."

She laughs softly, running her hand over his hair. "I think he likes you, Victor. Imagine that."

As they move through the primate exhibits, his mother finally seems to relax too. She stands back, letting him wander from one enclosure to the next at his own pace. At the gorilla habitat, he stops dead in his tracks. The silverback sits on a rock, surrounded by a group of smaller apes, holding court without moving a muscle. Victor's drawn to it instantly.

The gorilla turns its head slowly, its heavy gaze settling on him. It watches him, unmoving, calm but with a quiet power that doesn't need any noise to make itself known. Victor's chest feels tight, and he realizes he hasn't breathed for a moment. There's something about the gorilla's silence that he understands-its authority doesn't come from loud sounds or fast motions. It just is.

His mother moves beside him, her voice soft now. "He's the leader of the group, you know? All he has to do is sit there, and the others know who's in charge."

Victor nods, eyes still on the gorilla. "It's because he doesn't need to do anything to be strong," he says, not realizing he's spoken out loud.

His mother blinks, looking at him with a kind of soft surprise, the smile on her face a little different this time. "Yes," she says slowly. "Yes, I think you're right."

"He doesn't move a lot," he murmurs.

"No," his mother says, watching him closely. "But he doesn't have to, does he?"

Victor shakes his head. "No."

His mother looks from the gorilla back to her son, her hand resting on his shoulder. "Some people are like that too, you know. They don't need to make a fuss."

Victor glances at her, his mouth a straight line. "But they do anyway."

She chuckles. "True. But not you." She watches him quietly, then adds, "You see things, Victor. Things I miss sometimes."

Victor turns his gaze back to the silverback. "The gorilla wouldn't be loud, though. He doesn't need to be. He can be, but he doesn't."

They stand there for a long time, Victor watching the gorilla in silence while his mother lets him be, feeling like she's learned something about him that maybe she wasn't looking for but wanted all the same.

They stay at the gorilla enclosure longer than anywhere else, and Victor notices his mother glancing at him, but this time she doesn't seem to mind that he's quiet. She's just watching him as he watches the gorilla, as if maybe she's seeing something new in him she hadn't noticed before.

As they leave, she buys him a small gorilla figurine at the gift shop. He turns it over in his hand, feeling the smooth, heavy plastic, and tucks it into his pocket. She tucks the figurine into his hand, pressing her fingers gently over his. "Now you have your gorilla. Maybe he'll remind you of today."

Victor closes his fingers around it, nodding. "I think he will."

And they walk out of the zoo, mother and son, with Victor feeling a quiet warmth he doesn't have a word for but decides to keep with him. He feels the feeling.