Every morning, just as the golden sun peeked over the treetops, Monkey Lyly climbed to her favorite branch high in the canopy. It was the perfect sunbathing spot—warm, quiet, and surrounded by the scent of blooming orchids. She would stretch out her arms, close her eyes, and let the gentle rays warm her fur.
But today was strange.
As Lyly reached her usual spot, she noticed something odd. The sun wasn’t shining like it usually did. A thick, silvery mist blanketed the forest, and the usual chorus of birdsong was oddly quiet. She rubbed her eyes and looked again—still no sun.
“Huh,” Lyly murmured, scratching her head. “Maybe a cloud party up there?”
Determined to enjoy her morning ritual anyway, she sat down and waited. But just as she settled in, a soft rustling came from the nearby leaves. She turned quickly—nothing. Then again, a faint shuffle, closer this time.
“Who’s there?” she called.
Out popped a tiny chameleon wearing a leaf hat. “Sorry to startle you!” he squeaked. “I’m Chimi. Today’s mist is magical. It only happens once every hundred moons!”
“Magical?” Lyly blinked. “What kind of magic?”
Chimi smiled. “It’s called the Mist of Messages. If you sit quietly and listen, the mist carries whispers from faraway places—memories, thoughts, even wishes.”
Curious and a little excited, Lyly closed her eyes again. This time, she listened closely. At first, it was silent. Then, soft as a breeze, she heard it: a distant giggle, a lullaby from a mother bird, the rumble of a waterfall she hadn’t visited since she was a baby.
A warmth filled her heart—not from the sun, but from the memories. The mist wrapped around her like a soft blanket, reminding her of how big and beautiful her jungle world truly was.
When the mist lifted, Lyly smiled wider than she had in weeks.
The sun was back—but this morning, she realized, even cloudy days can shine in their own special way.
