The early morning mist settled over the jungle as a newborn baby monkey lay on the cold ground. His tiny body trembled, his thin fur barely enough to keep him warm. His eyes, still adjusting to the bright world, were filled with fear and confusion. He let out a weak, shaky cry—high-pitched and heartbreaking.
His mother stood a few feet away, her tail flicking with frustration. She had just finished foraging for food, and now she was watching her baby, unsure of what to do. The wild was harsh, and she expected him to be strong.
The newborn, too weak to stand, tried to reach for her with his tiny fingers, but she didn’t come. Instead, she turned her head, making a low grunt as if scolding him for being weak.
“Eeeh! Eeeh!” the baby wailed louder, his small body shaking from the cold and hunger. His cries echoed through the trees, but his mother only watched.
Then, suddenly, she moved closer. With one quick motion, she grabbed him by the scruff and lifted him onto her chest. The baby clung to her fur desperately, pressing his tiny face against her warm skin.
For a moment, he stopped crying.
The mother sighed, licking his head roughly, her way of saying, “Enough crying now.” She still seemed irritated, but at least she had taken him back.
Wrapped against her warmth, the baby let out a soft whimper, exhausted from his earlier tantrum. He didn’t know why his mother had been angry, but at least for now, he was safe.
Tomorrow, he would have to be stronger.
Tomorrow, he couldn’t cry so much.
