Early one bright morning in the green forest park, a baby monkey named Kiko woke up feeling extra playful. His tail twitched, his ears perked up, and his stomach felt full of silly ideas. Kiko was the kind of baby monkey who believed everything in the world existed either to be climbed, tasted, or laughed at.
As he hopped down from his favorite tree, he noticed a strange creature slowly crossing the sandy path. It wasn’t jumping. It wasn’t swinging. It wasn’t even hurrying. It was moving like time itself had decided to take a nap. The creature was a tortoise named Old Stoneback, famous in the park for his patience and calm.
Kiko stared in amazement. He had never seen an animal walk so slowly. From Kiko’s point of view, Old Stoneback looked like a moving hill with legs. Curious, Kiko crept closer, placing each tiny step carefully as if sneaking up on a secret.
Old Stoneback didn’t react. He just kept walking.
Kiko waved his hand in front of the tortoise’s face. Nothing happened. He made a funny squeaking noise. Still nothing. Kiko frowned. This was suspicious. Everything else always reacted to Kiko.
Then Old Stoneback opened his mouth to munch on a leaf.
Kiko’s eyes went wide.
A mouth that opens and closes by itself? That was the most interesting thing Kiko had seen all day.
Before thinking, before listening to any warning from the universe, Kiko leaned forward and gently bit the tortoise’s mouth.
Not hard. Not angry. Just a curious little nip.
The forest froze.
Birds stopped chirping. Even the wind seemed to pause. Old Stoneback stopped walking and slowly closed his eyes. For a long moment, nothing happened.
Kiko panicked.
Then Old Stoneback calmly pulled his head halfway into his shell and waited. No yelling. No snapping. No drama at all.
Kiko blinked, then burst out laughing.
He laughed so hard he fell onto his back, rolling in the sand with tiny giggles and squeaks. To him, this was hilarious. He had bitten a mouth, and the mouth had simply disappeared like magic.
After a moment, Old Stoneback slowly pushed his head back out and continued chewing his leaf as if nothing had happened. His eyes were kind, calm, and a little amused.
Kiko crawled closer again, still giggling. This time he pretended to bite the air near the tortoise’s face, making silly sounds. Old Stoneback didn’t mind. He just looked at Kiko like a teacher watching a very noisy student.
Finally, Old Stoneback spoke in a slow, gentle voice. “Little one, curiosity is good,” he said. “But teeth are not questions.”
Kiko stopped laughing.
He tilted his head, thinking deeply in his baby monkey way. Then he nodded, as if he understood at least a tiny bit.
The two sat together for a while. Kiko poked leaves instead of mouths. Old Stoneback continued his peaceful walk. From that day on, Kiko learned something important: not every mystery needs a bite.
But whenever Kiko saw Old Stoneback, he would smile, remembering the day he bit a mouth that taught him patience.
And Old Stoneback? He simply walked on, carrying one more funny memory inside his ancient shell.
