In the middle of the troop’s busy afternoon, tiny baby Alba clung to a branch, her soft cries echoing through the forest. She was tired, hungry, and overwhelmed, but her mother Anna was acting strangely. Anna wasn’t being cruel—she was stressed, distracted, and confused, pacing from tree to tree as if searching for something she couldn’t find. Alba didn’t understand, and her shaky whimpers grew louder, drawing the attention of the entire group.
Normally, Anna carried Alba gently against her chest, guarding her from every danger. But today, Anna’s behavior was unpredictable. She kept pulling Alba close, then suddenly stepping away, leaving the baby confused and frightened. Every time Alba tried to climb to Anna, the mother seemed unsure, as if she didn’t know whether to comfort her baby or continue her restless search.
The troop’s older females noticed quickly. Auntie Libby and wise old Rose exchanged glances—this wasn’t normal. They moved closer, circling around Alba with concern. When Anna turned away yet again, pacing toward the bushes, Libby acted. She scooped tiny Alba into her arms, holding her with firm, protective warmth.
Alba immediately stopped crying, pressing her face into Libby’s fur. The troop gathered around, creating a safe circle, giving Anna space to calm down. It wasn’t that Anna was “torturing” her baby—she was overwhelmed, struggling with the weight of motherhood and the chaos of the troop that day.
After a few minutes, Anna returned, her breath steadier and her eyes clearer. She gently reached for Alba, and Libby slowly passed the baby back. The rescue wasn’t dramatic or violent—it was a moment of support, of the troop helping a mother who simply needed time to regain herself.
In the end, Alba nestled safely against Anna once more, reassured by the warmth of her mother’s heartbeat and the quiet strength of the troop that protected her.
