Little Alan had been crying all morning.
At first, his tiny voice was loud and sharp. “Eeeek! Eeeek! Where’s my milk?!”
But as time passed… his cries grew weaker.
His tummy rumbled. His tiny hands clutched his belly.
His eyes, once full of tears, were now dry.
Alan curled up in the corner, his tail wrapped around himself.
Mom still wasn’t back yet.
He sniffled and let out a tiny, broken whimper.
“Mom… please…”
Just then, footsteps approached.
It was Mom!
She rushed to Alan, holding a warm bottle of milk.
“Oh, my poor baby! I’m so sorry!”
Alan lifted his head weakly.
The moment he saw the bottle, his eyes lit up.
“M-Milk…!”
Mom quickly scooped him up and fed him.
As the warm milk touched his tongue, Alan let out a soft sigh of relief.
He drank fast, gulping hungrily.
Mom rubbed his tiny back. “I’ll never let you go hungry again, sweetheart.”
Alan, now full, snuggled into Mom’s arms.
His eyes fluttered shut.
No more hunger. No more tears.
