The peaceful afternoon in the small forest enclosure was suddenly shattered by an ear-piercing wail. Tiny Gibbon, barely old enough to venture far from his mom, was sitting on a tree branch, his little arms flailing as he let out loud, desperate cries. His screeches echoed through the area, startling birds into flight and drawing every eye to his tiny figure.
Mom, busy gathering leaves for their makeshift nest, froze at the sound. She knew that cry—it wasn’t just a simple complaint; it was a plea for comfort. Dropping the leaves, she sprinted across the clearing, her heart racing.
Tiny Gibbon’s cries grew louder, his whole body shaking as tears streamed down his furry cheeks. His tiny hands clutched at the branch, and his head swayed back and forth in distress. He had spotted a beetle crawling nearby, and the unfamiliar sight had scared him senseless.
“Mom! MOM!” his cries seemed to say, filled with urgency and fear.
Within moments, Mom was by his side, her comforting presence immediately calming him. She gently scooped him into her arms, holding him close to her chest. “What’s wrong, my little one?” she murmured softly, her warm breath brushing against his fur.
Tiny Gibbon buried his face in her shoulder, his sobs quieting as he felt the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat. Mom rocked him gently, whispering soothing words to assure him he was safe.
With his fears forgotten, Tiny Gibbon clung tightly to her, his cries replaced by soft, contented coos. Mom smiled, relieved, and carried him back to their nest.
