The morning sun peeked through the thick jungle canopy, painting the forest floor in splashes of gold and green. Birds chirped their songs, and the leaves danced with a gentle breeze. All was peaceful — for a moment.
In the shadow of the trees, a baby monkey named Nomi sat on a low branch, munching on a piece of overripe fruit. His small eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked around. His mother had just gone a short distance away to drink from a puddle. “Stay here,” she had grunted softly, nuzzling his head. “I’ll be right back.”
But Nomi was young — too young to understand that sometimes, a few steps too far could lead to trouble.
He dropped the fruit and scampered down to the ground. Just for a moment, he thought. Just to explore.
And that’s when he heard it.
BARK!
Loud. Sharp. Startling.
Nomi froze.
BARK! BARK!
The sound came again — closer, faster.
From the corner of his eye, he saw it: a big puppy, far larger than him, barreling out of the village path and into the brush, floppy ears bouncing, tail wagging wildly. Its paws pounded the ground, kicking up dust.
It wasn’t angry — just playful. But it didn’t understand that to a tiny monkey, this wasn’t fun.
This was terrifying.
Nomi screamed.
A high-pitched, panicked cry ripped from his throat as he turned and ran.
His tiny legs pumped as fast as they could. He scrambled over roots, ducked under branches, tripped on vines. His heart slammed in his chest.
“Mommy! MOMMY!” he shrieked.
Where was she?
Why wasn’t she here?
Behind him, the puppy barked joyfully and gave chase, bounding through the undergrowth, knocking over leaves and twigs. Every bark was like thunder in Nomi’s ears.
He cried again, tears streaking down his furry cheeks.
“Mommy, help me!”
But no answer came.
Nomi spotted a tree root jutting out of the ground and dove beneath it. He squeezed his little body under the root, panting, ears flat, chest heaving.
The puppy skidded to a stop, sniffing wildly at the dirt, tail wagging. It tried to paw under the root, whining, but its big body couldn’t fit.
Nomi whimpered.
He was too scared to move, too small to fight, too far from help.
He was all alone.
For the first time in his short life, he truly felt what danger was — not from a fall or a stumble, but from something bigger, louder, stronger.
And he had no one to protect him.
But then… a rustle.
Leaves shaking.
A familiar scent in the air.
A shadow above.
His mother.
She appeared like a storm — eyes wild, fur bristling, leaping from branch to branch with powerful strides. She landed just a few feet from the puppy and let out a fierce, guttural screech.
It wasn’t the sound of a mother.
It was the sound of a warrior.
The puppy jumped back in surprise, yelping. It barked once more, confused, tail now lower, unsure what to do.
Samra — Nomi’s mother — bared her teeth, clapping her hands loudly, making herself look bigger. She rushed forward, fearless.
The puppy whimpered.
Then, finally, it turned and ran, tail between its legs, disappearing back toward the village.
The moment it was gone, Samra dropped to the ground and ripped away the leaves around the tree root.
There he was.
Her baby.
Her shaking, wide-eyed, dirt-covered little boy.
“Nomi…” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He launched himself into her arms, sobbing against her chest. She pulled him close, wrapping all four limbs around him, rocking him slowly, whispering soft grunts into his fur.
“I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
Nomi couldn’t stop crying. His tiny body trembled as he clung to her like a lifeline.
“I was so scared,” he whimpered.
“I know, baby,” she whispered. “I know.”
She kissed his head over and over, grooming him with her fingers, checking him for scrapes. There were none — just dirt and fear.
But that fear cut deep.
She carried him up into the trees — far away from the village edge, high into the thick branches where the wind was gentle and the leaves muffled the world below.
There, she held him close against her chest, his head tucked under her chin, and she didn’t let go.
For hours, they stayed like that.
No one else mattered.
Not the troop.
Not the birds.
Not the sun overhead.
Just mother and child.
Together again.
Later, as the forest returned to calm, Nomi finally lifted his head.
“Will the big puppy come back?” he whispered.
His mother looked at him carefully. “Maybe,” she said honestly. “But you won’t be alone next time.”
Nomi blinked, tears still caught in his lashes. “You’ll be there?”
She kissed his cheek. “Always.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around her. His breathing slowed. The pounding in his chest faded. He was safe now, wrapped in the only place that truly mattered — her arms.
And though his fear would take time to fade, one thing was sure:
