In the crowded corner of the troop’s home, tiny baby Draya sits alone, her small body pressed against a tree trunk for comfort. Her fur is ruffled, a few patches pulled by rough hands, and her eyes glisten with tears she’s too little to hide.
Earlier, Draya only wanted to stay close to her mother. But the troop’s mood turned tense when three bigger female monkeys came near. In the wild, mother monkeys sometimes protect their own space fiercely — even from little ones that don’t belong to them. When Draya wandered too close, curious and unsteady on her tiny feet, the mothers chased her away with loud screams and sharp pulls.
Draya squeaked in fright, her little arms flailing as she scrambled back toward her own mother for help. But her mother, tired and distracted, did not pull her close. She didn’t fight the other females off. She simply turned her back, leaving poor Draya to crouch in the dust, her tiny heart racing from the chaos she didn’t understand.
Now Draya sits alone, licking a small scratch on her leg. She watches the other babies nurse or snuggle into their mothers’ warm arms. Her own mother perches nearby, grooming her own fur, not even glancing back at Draya’s wide, pleading eyes.
Sometimes in the life of monkeys, not every mother protects as fiercely as she should. Sometimes, a tiny one like Draya learns too early what it means to feel alone.
Yet under the same tree, an older sibling creeps closer, offering a soft nudge and a gentle groom. Maybe Draya won’t be completely alone tonight. Even in a rough troop, a kind touch can remind a frightened baby that someone still cares — and tomorrow might be gentler than today.
