The feeling of the wind rushing through your hair as you swing and yell is incredible. You don't even care who hears you now. You land with a soft thud on the opposite tree's branch, and grab the trunk for balance. Your shoulders tickle as something brushes against them. You reach up nervously thinking maybe you swung into a spider web or something. Instead your fingers close around your own now long silky hair. You tug, and realize that it really is your hair. It's not so surprising, you think, considering how buff your muscles have grown. You're a bit surprised how smooth your skin is too. You were sure that you had more chest hair. You figured that the way you filled out so quickly just made your hair seem more sparse. But running your fingers over your abs, you realize that your treasure trail is missing too. Oh, you still have body hair, but it's a really light dusting. Could you be getting younger?
Who cares, you think with a shrug, you feel great, you look great, so what does a little body hair matter. After all it would just obscure your ripped muscles under a hairy thatch if it was there. You rub your smooth chin, it seems squarer than before. No stubble at all, now that is odd. Oh, well, you'd rather be swinging than thinking anyway. So you jump off the branch. You swing from vine to vine, from tree to tree. You want to see how fast you can go to the other end of the greenhouse gallery. You race faster and faster, and your muscles ache and gleam with sweat. You breathing is labored and your skin glows red from exertion.
But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?
The gallery is bigger than you thought. You pause on a branch to catch your breath, and wonder if you might be going in circles. It's been at least 45 minutes, each leap was at least 15 feet, and you were leaping every 10 seconds in the air for a couple, then catching breath and readying for next leap for the remainder. There were a couple places where the trees weren't too dense, and you managed 200 foot swings too. Numbers jump around in your head 90 feet a minute for 45 minutes, 4050 feet - that's almost a mile. The building didn't look that big. And that's being conservative, you know most leaps were a lot more than 15 feet.
You climb up to the top of the tree to survey your situation, and your jaw drops. The canopy stretching out around you is a gorgeous, variety of deep green shades. It goes on as far as the eye can see. There are no walls, there is no ceiling. You're not in the Arboretum any longer. You are in a real jungle. You stand in the treetop, and beat your chest and yell.
You are the king of the jungle.
A silent hush falls on the jungle. The birds are silent. The bugs are silent. The jungle is silent.
Then an elephant trumpets, and another beast roars. There is no zoo in the jungle. You feel trepidation and joy. You don't know how or why, you know you should panic, but you feel like you've come home.