In the quiet clearing where sunlight slips through tangled branches, two monkeys move in a blur of fur and sharp sounds. Dee Dee, older and larger, has always been fierce in guarding her space. Today, a new baby monkey named Daniela has unknowingly wandered too close — her tiny steps and soft eyes not yet understanding the unwritten rules of the troop.
At first, Dee Dee only growls, a low warning deep in her throat. Little Daniela pauses, her small hands frozen mid-step, wide eyes flicking from Dee Dee to the safety of the trees. But before she can scramble away, Dee Dee lunges forward.
With one strong arm, Dee Dee grabs Daniela roughly by the scruff of her neck. Daniela squeals, her tiny body limp and helpless as Dee Dee drags her backward through the dirt. Twigs snap underfoot, leaves scatter, and Daniela’s cries echo through the branches.
Suddenly, Dee Dee swings her with a force too strong for Daniela’s small body. Daniela’s side slams against the hard trunk of a low tree. The thud rings out louder than her soft, broken squeal. She crumples to the ground, stunned, breathing in quick, frightened gasps.
Nearby monkeys pause. Some chatter nervously, some edge closer but do nothing — knowing Dee Dee’s temper too well. Daniela tries to move but her legs shake beneath her tiny frame. She looks around for help, for her mother’s arms, for any sign that someone will come between her and Dee Dee’s anger.
Moments later, an older female finally steps forward, pulling Daniela close and grooming her tiny fur, checking for cuts and bruises. Daniela presses her face into the soft belly of her rescuer, whimpering with each breath — hurt but safe for now, hoping she’ll never be dragged into fear again.
