In the cool green of the forest floor, tiny baby monkey Brisco was exploring beside a shallow stream. The morning light shimmered on the water, and the breeze rustled softly through the leaves. Brisco was full of curiosity, hopping between stones, his tiny hands splashing in the water.
But then—he felt something strange. A sharp, uncomfortable pull on his skin. He looked down to see a dark, wriggling leech clinging to his ankle.
Brisco panicked. He didn’t understand what it was—only that it hurt, and he couldn’t make it stop. He squealed, a high, trembling sound that echoed through the trees. His tiny heart pounded as he kicked and scrambled away from the stream, the leech still attached.
With wide, terrified eyes, Brisco darted through the forest, looking for someone—anyone—to help him. He passed older monkeys who glanced his way but didn’t come near. He tripped over roots and stumbled over leaves, crying with every step.
Finally, he spotted a familiar figure — a caretaker he knew, one who often brought him food and comfort. With the last of his strength, Brisco ran straight into their arms, his tiny body shaking from fear and pain.
The caretaker quickly saw the problem. With steady hands, they removed the leech, cleaned the wound gently, and whispered soothing words. Brisco whimpered but leaned into their chest, clutching their shirt with trembling fingers.
His tears slowed. His breathing eased. And as he felt the soft cloth wrap around him, he knew he was safe.
Brisco may have been small, and the world sometimes frightening, but in those caring arms, he found comfort again. The bite would heal — and so would the fear, replaced slowly by trust, safety, and love.
