Chapter Twenty-Four: The Gentle Moments

The forest had grown softer over time. The mist still curled along the roots and drifted between the trees, but the air was warmer now, tinged with peace instead of mystery. The frost no longer bit. It shimmered. Jitu had not changed. Not on the outside. He still rested beneath the same twisted tree, his immense frame as still as stone, his icy blue eyes quiet and unreadable. But the moments—the small, purest ones—had begun to surface. Like cracks in the frost. Vitani was watching every one of them.—Day One.                                              Nala approached with slow, light steps, a small bundle of sweet berries tucked beneath one paw. “Hello, Jitu,” she greeted, her voice kind. “I brought you something sweet.” He didn’t move at first. Then his nose lowered, gently brushing the berries. "Ah—choo!" The sneeze was deep and sudden, shaking the branches above and scattering the berries with a gust of air. Jitu blinked, visibly surprised. Then, softly, almost sheepishly, he murmured, “Excuse me.” Nala blinked… and then burst into laughter. “Bless you, dear.” From the bushes, Vitani’s team stared, slack-jawed. “He talked,” Shabaha whispered. “He sneezed,” Imara clarified. “Politely so,” Kasi added, eyes wide. Vitani’s claws dug into the earth. “Why won’t he talk to me?”

—Day Three.                                             Jitu rested as usual, his posture regal but relaxed. Nearby, Simba and Nala shared quiet conversation. A flutter of wings, and a tiny bird landed on his massive paw. It chirped once, tilting its head, curious. Jitu didn’t move. Just watched. Then, barely audible: “Hi.” The bird chirped again and flew off. Vitani scowled from the undergrowth. “Okay. Now he talks to birds?” Tazama grinned. “Maybe it’s a really good listener.”

—Day Five.                                       “Alright,” Kiara beamed, drawing a line in the dirt, “this is a game. Flick the berry across this line without claws. If you do, you win.” Jitu eyed the line, then the berry. Carefully, he tapped it with the edge of his massive paw. It rolled… and crossed.Kiara clapped. “You did it!” He said nothing. But his mouth twitched—just slightly. Vitani groaned. “He plays games now. With her.” Shabaha smirked. “Jealous much?”

—Day Seven.                                       Mara’s cubs played nearby, tumbling in a pile of spotted fur. One rolled against Jitu’s enormous paw with a squeak. Without a word, he leaned down and nudged the cub upright with his nose.“Thank you, dear,” Mara called, relief and affection in her voice. Jitu looked at her, and in a quiet, rumbling voice, whispered, “Be safe.” From the bushes, Vitani’s jaw dropped. “He talks to her. Talks to everyone but—” She cut herself off, growling. Imara leaned in. “Well maybe you should stop, oh I don't know, yelling at him.”                                  “I don’t yell,” Vitani snapped. The looks from her Guard said otherwise, wearing smirks and raised brows.

—Day Ten.                                             Rafiki twirled his staff with theatrical flair. “And young Simba, the mighty hunter, once fled from a butterfly!” Simba groaned, burying his face. “I was a cub!” A low sound rumbled from Jitu’s chest—not loud, but unmistakable. A chuckle. Nala grinned. “Even he thinks it’s funny.” Vitani fumed. “I swear, he’s messing with me.”

—Day Twelve.                                          The clearing was silent except for a soft, wandering tune. Jitu was whistling. His head was bowed, eyes half-closed, his body still. The song was quiet and beautiful, no more than a breath on the wind. This time, no one approached. No one spoke. They simply listened. Vitani leaned forward, expression softening. “He really is amazing, isn’t he?” Imara grinned. “Now you finally admit it. ”Vitani flushed. “I… I just… He’s frustrating.” But as Jitu’s melody lingered in the golden air, a faint, genuine smile touched her lips. Jitu, still whistling, flicked one ear.