Zazu's quiet act of trust hung in the still air, a silent question asked of the ancient woods.
Gilda held her breath, her hand hovering over her axe, unsure if this was a brilliant plan or a terrible mistake. FaeLina held her breath on her shoulder. The entire forest seemed to be waiting for the answer.
And then, it came.
The ancient tree, which had met demands with silence and threats with stillness, stirred. Its wrinkled, bark-like nose twitched, taking in the fragrant steam of Zazu's 'Moment of Peace' tea. The grumpy "face" in the bark seemed to soften, its deep-set frown lessening just a little.
It did not immediately grant them passage. Instead, a single, thin branch, much smaller than the others, lowered itself with a slow, deliberate grace. From its tip grew a single, perfect, golden leaf that shimmered with a soft, internal light.
