Life in the wild is always uncertain, even more so for expectant mothers. A pregnant monkey, carrying her fragile baby inside, faced one of the most terrifying moments of her life when Old Mama Berry turned against her. The attack was harsh and sudden, leaving both mother and unborn infant in grave danger.
It began quietly in the clearing, where the troop gathered to forage. The pregnant mother moved carefully, her belly swollen with new life. Every step she took was slow, deliberate, filled with the instinct to protect the baby growing within her. Yet her vulnerability did not go unnoticed. Old Mama Berry, known for her foul temper and unpredictable moods, was especially upset that day. No one knew the cause—perhaps hunger, perhaps jealousy, or perhaps the weight of age pressing on her spirit—but her anger needed an outlet.
The pregnant mother was an easy target. Without warning, Berry lunged at her. The sound of furious shrieks filled the air as teeth and hands lashed out. The younger mother cried out in shock, trying to shield her belly while fending off the attack. But Berry’s blows landed hard, scraping her body and forcing her to stumble.
Gasps echoed from the troop. Other females called loudly, juveniles scattered in fear, and even the dominant male shifted uneasily, sensing the seriousness of the moment. Yet no one dared intervene immediately. The attack was fierce, and the risk of stepping in was too high.
The pregnant mother collapsed to the ground, clutching her stomach, her cries sharp with both pain and terror. Her baby inside seemed to respond—her belly twitched as though the unborn life was stirred by the violence outside. The sight was heartbreaking: one life fighting for survival while another depended completely on its strength.
Berry finally pulled back, her chest heaving, her eyes still burning with rage. But her anger did not last. As she looked down at the trembling figure before her, a shadow of unease crossed her old face. For all her temper, she too was a mother once. A deep silence followed, broken only by the pitiful sobs of the pregnant female as she cradled her belly, whispering soft calls of comfort to the infant within.
The troop drew closer, concern showing in their eyes. Some mothers reached out to groom the wounded female, brushing her fur gently as if to reassure her. The dominant male settled nearby, his posture protective, while younger females gathered leaves as a small gesture of care. In that moment, the troop seemed to rally, offering silent support to mother and unborn child.
Berry, now sitting apart, appeared restless. Her earlier fury had dissolved into something heavier—guilt. She watched quietly, her old eyes softening, as the young mother continued to whimper over her belly. It was a moment that revealed both the cruelty and compassion that live side by side in the wild.
For the pregnant mother, the day had left scars both visible and unseen. Yet her determination to protect her baby did not falter. Even through her pain, she pressed her arms around her belly, vowing silently to keep her child safe.
