Title: Poor Baby Lynx Screaming Real Loud Why Mom Leaving No Feeding Full
Early morning light trickled through the dense jungle canopy, waking the forest with a soft golden hue. The wild monkey troop began their usual routine — stretching, foraging, and grooming one another in the safety of the treetops. But not far from the center of the group, a painful cry broke through the peaceful sounds of dawn.
It was Lynx, a poor little baby monkey, no older than a few months. His tiny body shook as he screamed loudly, his voice echoing across the branches. His round belly was still empty, and his cries weren’t just for attention — they were for survival. He had woken up hungry again, and once more, his mother, Luna, had left without feeding him fully.
Luna sat a short distance away, perched on a higher branch, grooming herself while chewing on tender leaves. She showed no sign of rushing back to Lynx. She had given him a brief moment of milk earlier, but it hadn’t been enough. Just a few short sips — not enough to fill his belly or ease his cries.
Lynx cried louder, desperate, his voice rising in pitch as if begging the entire jungle to hear his pain. His small hands reached toward her as he tried to climb across the branches, unsteady and slow. Every few steps, he paused, letting out more heart-wrenching squeals, hoping his mother would turn around and come back.
But Luna didn’t. She leapt to another tree, continuing her search for food, as if her baby’s hunger wasn’t urgent. Lynx’s eyes followed her, filled with confusion. He didn’t understand why she wouldn’t stay and feed him more, why she always moved away just when he needed her the most.
The other monkeys glanced at him briefly. Some mothers pulled their babies closer, giving them extra attention. They had seen Luna behave this way before. She was not entirely neglectful — she groomed Lynx sometimes, let him nurse briefly — but she never fed him enough, and she often left him crying and alone.
By midday, Lynx finally caught up to Luna. Panting and weak, he scrambled into her lap and tried to nurse again. This time, she let him stay a little longer, but just as he started to calm down, she stood up and pushed him gently aside. Then, without a word or glance, she leapt away once more.
Lynx clung to the branch, sobbing loudly again, his little voice raw. He didn’t give up, though. His body may have been small and hungry, but his spirit still burned with hope. He followed her all afternoon, pausing only to cry out with every rejection.
As night fell and the forest darkened, Lynx finally curled up alone on a thick branch, his eyes half-closed, his stomach still not full. His cries had faded, replaced by a deep, quiet sadness.
And in that silence, the jungle whispered back nothing — just the sound of leaves rustling while poor baby Lynx waited for the love he needed so badly.
