In the peaceful garden where the wind danced through the flowers and sunlight glimmered between the trees, a tiny husky puppy played happily in the grass. His fur was soft like clouds, a mix of silver and white, and his little tail wagged with endless excitement. His blue eyes sparkled as he ran around, chasing butterflies and rolling in the leaves. The puppy’s soft barks echoed sweetly through the air, full of life and innocence.
Not far away, a big monkey sat on a low branch, watching the husky with sharp eyes. The monkey was strong, with dark fur and powerful arms. He had lived in the garden for a long time and didn’t like to share his space. The sound of the puppy’s happy barking made him restless. The monkey tilted his head, frowning. He had seen many animals come and go, but never one that was so loud, playful, and full of energy.
The little husky noticed the monkey and wagged his tail even harder. To him, everyone was a friend. He barked once — a soft, playful sound — and ran toward the tree where the monkey sat. The monkey leaned forward, watching carefully, his expression unreadable. The puppy stopped at the base of the tree, looked up, and let out another cheerful bark, inviting the monkey to play.
But the big monkey didn’t smile. His lips tightened, and he let out a low growl. The husky, too young to understand, barked again and jumped in excitement. His little paws scratched the dirt, and he spun in circles, tail wagging happily. The monkey climbed down slowly, each movement tense. His sharp teeth showed slightly as he made a low, warning sound. The husky tilted his head, ears perked up, thinking it was still a game.
The monkey stepped closer. The husky ran up to him with innocent joy, licking the air and wagging his tail, trying to show affection. But before he could get close enough to sniff, the big monkey lunged forward. In one sudden, fierce motion, the monkey opened his mouth and bit down hard on the husky’s tiny back.
A piercing cry exploded through the garden. The little husky screamed, his small body jerking violently as pain shot through him. The monkey’s teeth sank deep into his soft fur and skin. The puppy’s cry turned into a long, high-pitched wail that echoed across the garden, a sound of pure agony and shock.
The monkey released him after a moment, but the damage was done. The husky stumbled forward, collapsing onto the grass. His back was bleeding, his fur wet with red. His blue eyes were wide with fear, trembling as he whimpered helplessly. The big monkey stood over him, chest heaving, eyes burning with anger or confusion.
The puppy tried to crawl away, dragging himself slowly through the grass, crying weakly. Every movement made the wound on his back sting. The monkey watched him for a moment, then beat his chest and screamed loudly, shaking the branches around him. The garden fell silent except for the husky’s cries.
The sound was heartbreaking — soft, shaky, and desperate. The puppy didn’t understand why the monkey had hurt him. A few minutes ago, he had only wanted to play. Now he was lying on the cold ground, body shaking in pain. He looked around as if searching for someone to help him, his eyes full of tears.
The monkey’s anger began to fade. He looked down at the tiny creature struggling to breathe, and for the first time, he seemed unsure. The husky’s cries had turned into quiet whimpers, each one weaker than the last. The big monkey stepped closer again, sniffing the air. The smell of blood filled his nose. He tilted his head, his expression changing from rage to confusion — even guilt.
The husky flinched when the monkey moved closer, thinking another bite was coming. His tail tucked tightly between his legs, his small body trembling. The monkey crouched down beside him, watching. His eyes softened just a little. He reached out his long arm and touched the puppy’s fur gently, brushing near the wound. The husky whimpered again, in pain but too weak to resist.
The garden was quiet now, the air thick with tension and sadness. The sunlight that once felt warm now seemed cold. The flowers no longer swayed; even the wind had gone still. The big monkey sat beside the injured puppy, breathing slowly. The puppy’s sides rose and fell weakly, his small chest heaving. His once-bright fur was stained dark with blood and dirt.
Minutes passed. The husky’s crying faded into small, soft moans. His eyes blinked slowly, heavy with exhaustion. The big monkey looked down at him, as if realizing what he had done. He didn’t know how to fix it. He simply sat there, silent, watching the tiny husky suffer from his bite.
Finally, the monkey leaned closer and began to groom the fur near the wound, licking gently, as monkeys do when they try to care for one another. It was clumsy, almost desperate, but it was all he knew. The husky lay still, too tired to move, his breathing faint but steady. Perhaps he sensed that the monkey was no longer angry.
The sun began to set, painting the garden in gold and red. The big monkey stayed beside the little husky, his eyes heavy with regret. The once cheerful puppy, who had brought laughter to the garden, now lay quiet, resting in pain. The monkey seemed to guard him, as if silently promising not to harm him again.
When night came, the monkey climbed a little higher, still keeping watch. The husky slept uneasily on the grass below, his small body twitching now and then from pain. The stars appeared above, shining softly over the sad pair — the strong who had hurt the weak, and the weak who had only wanted to love.
In the gentle night breeze, the garden whispered again. Life would go on, the flowers would bloom, and the morning sun would rise. But the memory of that painful moment — the big monkey’s bite and the tiny husky’s cry — would linger forever, a quiet reminder that even in places of peace and beauty, pain can find its way in.
