Baby Ariana had always been a gentle, quiet little monkey, full of soft curiosity and tender innocence. But today, her tiny body showed nothing but exhaustion. Her father, Aron, a strong and energetic male, had been unusually restless since morning. He kept pulling Ariana along with him—faster than her small legs could handle, higher than her little arms could climb, and louder than her sensitive ears could bear.
Ariana tried her best. She wanted to follow him, to understand why he kept urging her to move, to climb, to jump, as if she were already a grown monkey. But she wasn’t. Her chest rose and fell quickly, her breaths light and shaky. Several times she stopped, hoping Aron would notice how tired she was. But each time she paused, he nudged her again, pushing her forward with impatience that Ariana simply couldn’t keep up with.
At one point, she stumbled. Her tiny hands slipped from the rough bark of the tree trunk, and she slid a little before catching herself. Her heart thumped in fear, her eyes watering with fatigue. Still, Aron kept calling her, his deep voice echoing through the branches.
Finally, Ariana curled herself near the base of a tree, her body trembling from exertion. Her delicate face pressed against her knees, her tail wrapped around herself for comfort. She didn’t want to disappoint her father—she only wanted to rest. Her breathing slowed, her eyes blinked wearily, and she made a soft, weak whimper that revealed just how drained she truly was.
Only then did Aron pause. He looked at his tiny daughter, finally understanding her struggle. His rigid posture softened, and he stepped closer, lowering his head.
Ariana leaned gently into him, too tired to lift her arms. Exhausted but safe—she finally got the quiet moment she desperately needed.
