Chapter Thirty-One: When the Mountain Walks

                                                              Visit One.                                             Jaws dropped and whispers stilled as Jitu, the silent giant of the mist, strode into the open sun. The cubs had never seen anything like him—his frost-touched mane glittered under the sun, his massive paws silent on the dust. He walked with no rush, no fear, no sound, and stopped beneath an acacia tree at the base of Pride Rock. There, he simply sat. A cub—bold, bouncing, barely weaned—trotted over and tapped his paw. Jitu lifted it gently, just enough for the cub to tumble underneath. His expression didn’t change. The cub laughed.

Visit Two.                                                By the waterhole, Jitu crouched beside the cool, rippling pool. His reflection shimmered back at him, warped slightly by the water's surface. His breath was slow. Still. Behind a nearby rock, Kiara and Kovu peeked. “He likes it here,” Kiara whispered. “I mean, he’s here, right?” Kovu grinned. Jitu glanced at them. They froze. He went back to drinking.

Visit Three.                                          Nala played in the tall grass with a gaggle of squealing cubs. The air was thick with laughter and pollen when Jitu stepped from the trees, silent as always. The cubs scattered, hiding behind Nala’s legs. She smiled and waved him over. “They’re just playing.” Jitu stepped forward. A particularly bold cub nudged his paw. Jitu leaned down and returned the nudge with the tip of his nose—careful, controlled. The cub giggled and called for the others. And so they gathered around him, climbing and pawing, while he stood still, unmoving, unmoved—but present.

Visit Four.                                          Rafiki waved his staff wildly, recounting one of his many stories. “And then young Simba—he ran at the birds! But oh-ho, they chased him instead!” Simba groaned and buried his face in his paws. A low, quiet rumble cut through the air. Not thunder. Not wind. A chuckle. Heads snapped toward Jitu. He lay nearby, his face neutral… but the chuckle was real. Simba blinked. “Did he just…?” Rafiki grinned. “Even the mountain laughs.” Jitu said nothing. He watched the sky.

Visit Five.                                             Near the base of Pride Rock, Vitani and her Guard trained under the sun. Dust flew as they leapt and dodged, roared and laughed. Vitani crouched low. Focused. She pounced—and landed flawlessly. Beaming, she turned—only to freeze.Jitu was watching from the edge of the clearing. He didn’t speak. He didn’t react. He simply turned and walked away. Vitani sighed, but a spark of amusement crept into her voice. “I’ll get you to talk. One day.”

Visit Six.                                                  He rested beneath a broad-leafed tree, surrounded by birds. They flitted and chirped, pecking gently at the earth—and occasionally, at his fur. One landed on his mane, another on his paw. Jitu did not move. He simply breathed. From a distance, Kiara watched with a soft smile.

Visit Seven.                                          Rain fell in light sheets, mist curling around the ridges of Pride Rock. Jitu stood unmoving on the ledge, drenched but unbothered.Nala joined him, shaking out her coat. “Aren’t you cold?” He didn’t respond. Just watched the rain. She sat beside him, silent for a moment. “Sometimes,” she said, “rain is a quiet friend.” He didn’t answer. But something about the moment—the stillness, the calm—felt like agreement.

Visit Eight.                                              He wandered the borders of the Pride Lands, alone but not lost. Zebras lifted their heads, their eyes following his shape through the grass. He didn’t hunt. He didn’t stare. He simply moved. From a distant rise, Simba and Kovu watched. “He’s exploring,” Kovu said. “That's for sure,” Simba murmured.

Visit Nine.                                             The sunset painted the land in molten gold and crimson. Jitu stood on a rocky ledge, his silhouette outlined by firelight, frost against flame. Vitani and her Guard sat below, quiet.“ Think he knows we’re here?” Tazama asked. “He always knows,” Imara replied. Vitani watched him with steady eyes. “And always leaves before I can talk to him.” But this time, Jitu didn’t leave. He stood in silence, watching the horizon. Still. Steady. Present. A mountain who sometimes walked.