It was an ordinary morning when tiny Lori wandered too close to the edge of the village road. The sun was warm, the leaves danced in a soft breeze, and Mama thought Lori was safe in the tall grass beside her. But the world is big and busy — and sometimes dangerous for someone so small.
Curious as ever, Lori chased a bright butterfly across the grass, her tiny feet kicking up dust. She didn’t see the road, didn’t hear the rumble that grew louder behind the bend. A car came rushing by too fast for such a quiet place.
In an instant, the butterfly was gone, and poor Lori was caught in the path of something she couldn’t understand. The tires skidded, the driver shouted, but it was too late. Lori was brushed by the car’s side and thrown into the dirt beside the road.
When Mama found her, she was lying so still it made the forest feel silent. Lori’s tail was hurt badly, scraped and bruised, and her tiny leg didn’t move right. She whimpered softly, blinking up at Mama with wide, frightened eyes.
The troop gathered nearby, chattering with worry. Mama pressed her nose against Lori’s side, licking the wounds gently, trying to clean the dust and blood. Every soft lick told Lori she wasn’t alone — even though her tiny body hurt more than ever.
A few older monkeys sat close, guarding them from any more danger. Lori curled into Mama’s arms, trembling when a breeze brushed her sore tail. Mama rocked her, soft clicks humming in the air like a lullaby.
For now, there is only quiet hope — that tomorrow, Lori’s wounds will begin to heal, her tiny cries will fade, and the road will never take her so close again.
