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The jungle was abnormally dry today, the scorching rays of sunlight breaking through the canopy like javelins. Amidst the greenery and gentle humming of insects, there was the tumult of snapping twigs, crunching leaves and frustrated grunts.

Nestled on the ground between two large trees, Oz grumbled in anger as his attempts of making a gorilla's nest failed. Again. He'd conveniently 'borrowed' a book about primates from the entertainment room, but it offered little in the way of instructions. Only the odd picture of night-nests. If he was going to spend the rest of his life as a gorilla, he might as well be a proper gorilla.

"Gah!" he grumbled, tossing a pile of bent twigs and crushed leaves to the side. He had yet to get the thick dark skin on his hands, so they bled and stung from the tiny scratches of twigs.

"WAAHHH! What was that!?"

The piercing sound of Miller's shriek startled the bulky half-ape-man so much that he dropped his newest collection of twigs and leaves and scarpered into the brush. He didn't go far though. He stopped and slowly started to creep back towards his 'nest', peering through the foliage, which barely concealed his darkened form anyway.

When he spied a fellow Islander, and one with a face full of twigs no less, he rushed from behind his cover.

"Oh I am so sorry! I didn't even see you there..." he began uttering and mumbling.

His somewhat disturbing appearance was the last thing on his mind.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that..." he apologised again, reaching a large hand over to help pick out some of the stray twigs. But he withdrew, seeing his grotesquely over-sized hand and instead brought it to the ground to rest on his knuckles once more.

The feathery-looking fella's question should have sounded odd to Oz. Should have. But didn't. After his time on the Island, nothing struck him as odd anymore. Not even the fact that yes, he was building a nest too. Until last week, Oz was unaware that gorilla's even made nests!

"Yeah...I kind of was...trying to at least," he chuckled, looking down at the mess of twigs and leaves he had tried to construct into something that would be comfy for his vastly increased bulk.

"You look better equipped to make nests though..." he commented idly, having finally noticed the Islander stood in front of him.

"Makes me glad I don't actually have the urge to climb trees...I'm terrified of heights," he replied with a smile, briefly gazing up at the canopy which seemed so far away.

He shuddered and his massive shoulders seemed to quiver all over.

"My name's Oz," he introduced himself, bowing his mishapen head.

Running from between his eyes and along his skull was a bony ridge that adult male gorillas developed. Thankfully, it was barely noticeable underneath his fuzzy head. But you could still see the muscles moving on it everytime Oz moved his jaw.

Oz was mildly surprised at Miller's cheerful outlook about the situation. But he himself had entered that stage of denial where he'd accepted his fate with mild humour. He was turning into a mini-Kong afterall. Who wouldn't want an excuse to rampage around, tearing things to bits and fighting lizards?

"Yeah, even when I was human, I looked like the biggest sissy," he smiled, revealing sharp canines. He then sat himself down, deciding to give up his nest-making for the time being.

"A pleasure to meet you Miller. If you're resident budgie, then meet the Island's only walking fuzzy blob," he chuckled heartily, not afraid to poke fun at his own weight issues.

Finding he needed to keep his hands busy (all four of them now), he twiddled the thumbs on his feet together, but picked up any assortment of twigs and twirled them around his fingers in his hands.

"Meh, we sound kind of similar - we have nothing to miss really," he shrugged those massive shoulders. And he chuckled at Miller's comment. "Ah yes, Nita. I have seen her around and you're right...he tail would beat my arse in the fluffy stakes. Probably in the pretty stakes too."

He had no allusions to his appearance and knew full well he was an ugly bugger, even before the transformations took place. And if Miller had voiced his opinion on Oz's 'normal' feet, he would have been hard-pressed to believe they were normal. He could hold a cup of tea with his foot!

"So, other than bitching about your previous life, got any other hobbies?" he laughed, picking up a large fan-like leaf and gently bopping Miller on the head with it.

Oz tried to listen to Miller's ramblings, but he was lost at 'World of Warcraf.' He had followed the conversation pretty well, up to that point. His knowledge of the internet, and computers in general, stopped at chatrooms and video games. And even then, he still preferred a PlayStation over a PC. No specifications or installation instructions. Stick a disc in a box and away you go!

He was just processing a response to Miller's former acquaintance with the red-panda girl when he made the mistake of mentioning sport. Well, Oz's eyes just lit up with enthusiasm.

"Ah! Now I've heard of lacrosse. They don't play it much back home, we're into all the really physical sports and stuff," he said with relish, hi-jacking the conversation.

"Lacrosse is a sport I think could have been big, since we have a lot of sports that require either hand-eye coordination or foot coordination. Lacrosse has both. Hockey just seems to offer more in masculinity, I suppose...and the ball stays on the ground."

Now, it was Oz's turn to ramble. He'd been introduced to many new sports whilst he studied at University, and even got chance to try a few during the Fresher Week. But drinking was all the sport he needed.

Oz let out a sudden laugh.

"You think I'm American? Lord no...no offense...I'm British. My accent has been a bit muddled by this," he laughed, then pointed to his throat. Indeed, his vocal chords had changed slightly as his change progressed, and would probably end in a voice so deep as to challenge Barry White.