The forest was alive with chirps and rustling leaves. Mom monkey swung from a low branch, calling cheerfully, “Qunn! Let’s play!”
But little baby Qunn stood frozen at the base of the tree. His face tightened. His lips trembled. And then—
“REEEEEKKKK!!”
A high-pitched scream burst from him like thunder in the trees. He stomped his tiny foot and threw his arms down in frustration.
He did not want to climb.
Mom paused mid-swing, surprised. Usually, Qunn loved chasing bugs and swinging on vines. But today, his mood had taken a sharp turn.
He shook his head, let out another squeal, and plopped onto the ground with a dramatic thud. His little tail lashed side to side. His whole tiny body screamed: “NO!”
Mom slowly dropped down beside him. “What happened, my baby?”
Qunn didn’t answer. He crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks, clearly still furious. Maybe he was tired. Maybe his tummy felt strange. Or maybe… he just didn’t want to be told what to do.
Mom didn’t scold. She simply sat beside him, her presence calm and quiet. After a few minutes, Qunn leaned just a little against her side, still sulking but accepting her warmth.
She softly stroked his back.
The trees continued to sway above, inviting—but today wasn’t for climbing. It was for patience, comfort, and being heard.
Qunn let out a final grunt, then sighed deeply. He wasn’t ready to play… but he felt a little better now that Mom understood.
Because even the strongest scream from a tiny voice just needs one thing—love.
