Wow! So Scary Face to Tiny Longtail, Stare Sharply to Others, Jane So Tired to Feed Cutest Girl
Deep within the forest, in the quiet shade of the towering trees, the monkey troop began their slow morning routine. The branches trembled slightly as the young ones swung from limb to limb, while the mothers settled down to feed, groom, and watch. Among them was Jane, a calm and graceful mother, known for her patience and soft care for her baby girl—a little longtail named Mira.
Mira was easily one of the most adorable infants in the troop. With her large, gleaming eyes, wobbly steps, and fluffy fur, she had the kind of face that melted hearts. Even the older monkeys often paused their grooming or chatter to peek over and smile at her. But as cute as she was, Mira was also fussy—always hungry, always clinging, and never wanting to sleep.
Her shoulders slumped as she sat on a low branch, baby Mira tugging at her chest, nursing yet again. She had barely slept the night before. Every time she tried to rest, Mira had cried, kicked, and pulled, demanding attention. Jane’s face was drawn with fatigue, her movements slow and weary. But she never pushed her baby away.
She fed Mira lovingly, even as her own energy faded.
Just as the sun filtered through the leaves, turning the forest golden, something unexpected happened.
A new female in the group, not well-known and not well-liked, appeared at the edge of the troop. Her name was Vera, and she had recently tried to take over a higher rank among the females. Vera had a strong, muscled build, and a face that was sharp—especially her eyes. She often glared at others, especially at those who got attention or affection.
As Mira finished nursing and tried to wobble onto the branch, Vera climbed nearby, slowly and deliberately. She perched on a branch just across from Jane and Mira, her face emotionless—but her eyes narrow, piercing.
Tiny Mira looked up innocently, blinking at the new face. She gave a soft squeak.
That’s when Vera stared sharply—her expression suddenly twisted into something intimidating. Her lips curled back, not quite a snarl, but enough to make even adult monkeys tense. Her eyes were full of warning, dominance, and cold jealousy.
The tiny longtail’s body stiffened, ears twitching as she slowly moved behind her mother’s leg. Her little heart raced. She didn’t understand the stare, but she felt the threat.
Jane noticed it instantly. Tired as she was, her body straightened. She placed her arm around Mira and shifted her position slightly, creating a small wall between her baby and the hostile gaze. Jane’s own eyes flicked up toward Vera—not aggressive, but firm.
Vera held the stare a moment longer, then scoffed quietly and turned her head, leaping to another branch and disappearing into the thicket.
The forest settled once again.
But the moment left a mark.
Some of the other mothers had seen it. One or two looked nervously at Jane. Others murmured low sounds of support. Even in the animal world, mothers knew the language of protection.
Jane gently stroked Mira’s back, humming a low, soft call. Mira peeked out, eyes still wide but slowly blinking. The danger had passed. She nuzzled close into Jane’s chest, curling into her soft fur.
Jane looked down at her daughter, sighing heavily. She was tired, but she would never stop fighting to protect her baby. No matter how scary the world became. No matter how sharp the stares.
She nestled Mira close, keeping watch on the forest around her, ready for whatever came next.
In that moment, the bond between them felt unbreakable. A tired mother. A frightened baby. A wild forest full of hidden threats.
But together, they were strong.
