Tourtour sat in the corner, his tiny arms crossed, his face full of sadness.
Mom had scolded him earlier, and now he didn’t want to be near her. His little tail twitched in frustration as he pouted.
He felt ignored. He felt angry. And most of all, he felt alone.
He kept glancing at Mom from a distance, hoping she would notice him. But Mom was busy, and that made him even more upset.
His little lips trembled. He sniffled, trying not to cry, but the tears slowly welled up.
Then—he let out a soft whimper.
Mom finally turned her head and saw him sitting there, looking so small and heartbroken.
“Oh, Tourtour…” She walked over gently, kneeling beside him.
But he turned away, still acting moody.
Mom chuckled softly. “Are you mad at me, little one?”
Tourtour sniffed again but didn’t answer. His tiny hands wiped his eyes as he sulked.
Mom smiled and reached out, gently rubbing his little back.
At first, he refused to react. But when she picked him up and hugged him tight, he couldn’t stay mad anymore.
His small hands clung to Mom’s shirt, and just like that—his sadness melted away.
