The tiny baby monkey let out a sharp cry as his mother suddenly grabbed him by the fur on his head. He tried to resist, but her grip was firm. She was his mother, yet at this moment, her actions felt rough and unforgiving.
The little one, still weak and unsteady, was being dragged forward, his small limbs struggling to keep up. He whimpered, his soft cries echoing in the quiet jungle. His mother, however, remained unfazed, her instincts guiding her actions. She had no ill intentions—this was just the way nature taught her to handle her baby.
Every time he stumbled, she would pause, her sharp eyes watching him closely. But instead of letting him rest, she tugged again, forcing him to continue. She was teaching him, in her own way, that survival in the wild was not easy.
The other monkeys nearby barely paid attention, as they had all experienced the same treatment as babies. It was harsh, but it was how monkey mothers ensured their little ones grew strong and independent.
Tears welled up in the baby monkey’s eyes as he let out another heartbreaking squeal, but his mother simply pulled him closer to her chest for a brief moment. Then, without hesitation, she released him, allowing him to rest on the forest floor.
Exhausted but safe, the baby curled into a tiny ball, his mother sitting beside him. Though her ways seemed rough, her presence alone was comforting. He understood now—this was not cruelty, but tough love, a lesson he would one day pass on to his own young.
