Random Short Stories

Delusions Galore [🦋]

In the sun-dappled alleys of Twolegplace, where the scent of fresh fish and warm bread wafted through the air, there lived a hefty kittypet named Pudding.

With a soft, round belly that spilled over his plush paws and a fur coat that gleamed like polished cream, Pudding knew he was something special.

His housefolk adored him, lavishing him with treats, toys, and endless pets. Visitors who ever came over always squealed and showered him with pets and praises with a single wide eyed stare from his green eyes.

Obnoxiously proud of his comfortable life, Pudding harbored an insatiable greed for more: food, attention, and, most importantly, recognition of his superiority.

Each day, Pudding lounged atop his plush velvet cushion in the sunniest corner of the living room, surveying his domain like a self-appointed monarch.

With a penchant for extravagant treats—be it the finest tuna or the most delectable chicken pâté—he prided himself on his culinary tastes.

And while other kittypets might have been content with well-kept gardens and the occasional bird to chase, Pudding dreamed of grandeur and luxury far beyond the simple life of a house cat.

Across the border in the heart of the Whispering Pines, a respected Storm Clade warrior named Saplingmoon patrolled with watchful eyes.

She was a lean and agile gray tabby with sharp amber eyes that held the weight of battles fought, constancy in her heart, and wisdom gathered under the moonlight. Many turned to her for help and advice, as a result.

Saplingmoon was no ordinary warrior either; she had left behind a legacy of honour for the Storm Clade, defeating countless enemy warriors in the great Battle Of The Blood Eclipse, leaving her name a testament to her Clade's power.

Pudding, in his self-proclaimed grandeur, had taken a peculiar interest in this warrior, convinced that he was entitled to be compared to her—for what could be more demeaning than a fat, pampered kittypet considering himself nearly equal to a true warrior?

"Look at her! Saplingmoon!" Pudding would declare to his neighbour, a tuxedo tom with yellow eyes named Fossil. "What an absurd name; she's named after a plant and a circular rock in the sky at night!"

"How can she call herself a warrior? I could easily defeat her! All that running around in the woods—who needs it? The best life is right here, among the warm beds and plenty of food!" He would snicker to Latte, a reddish-brown she-cat with white paws.

The other cats of Twolegplace would chuckle or roll their eyes at Pudding's boasts, with some of the bolder ones openly snorting in amusement, but he paid them all no mind.

Day after day, he grew more vocal in his assertions, his bravado painting a picture of exaggerated prowess, not even bothering to mask his ignorance and clear delusion.

One sunny afternoon, after months of incessant complaining, Pudding finally amassed the courage—or perhaps the foolishness—to issue a challenge to Saplingmoon.

He, along with Fossil and Latte, strutted into a clearing where she was honing her skills, training with her Clade members as the sun filtered through the leaves like shards of gold.

Fossil and Latte trembled slightly at the sight of the Clade cats, all powerful and strong, and once they saw exactly who Pudding wanted to challenge, they tried to convince him to back off.

Of course, Pudding did not listen.

"Hey! You!" Pudding shouted, puffing out his chest as he pointed straight to Saplingmoon. "I challenge you to a duel! Thankfully, I'm not a warrior, so I won't have to hold back!"