Random Short Stories

Beauty And Its Curse [🦋]

In the lush and vibrant territory of YeastClan, where the sun spilled golden light across the towering trees, there was a cat named Briarflower.

Briarflower was not particularly unique; her fur was a soft dapple of creams and browns, and her eyes mirrored the mossy greens that carpeted the forest floor.

To any casual observer, she could easily be deemed average looking, maybe pretty at most. But what lay beneath her striking coat was something far more sinister.

In her mind, she was the epitome of perfection. Each morning, she would spend countless minutes preening beside the Silver Stream, admiring her reflection as if it held the wisdom of the ancients.

Her clanmates began to whisper about her increasingly elaborate grooming rituals. Briarflower had grown delusional in her quest for beauty; she believed her appearance could capture the attention of StarClan itself.

The foolish she-cat was utterly obsessed with her beauty, spending countless hours grooming herself, meticulously fluffing her fur and arranging her whiskers to perfection for her nonexistent admirers.

While other warriors sharpened their claws or practiced battle moves, Briarflower would gaze longingly into the reflecting waters of the stream, sighing at what she perceived to be unmatched perfection.

"Look at me!" she would purr to her fellow clanmates during gatherings. "Aren't I just the fairest of them all?"

The other cats would exchange weary glances, their tails flicking in irritation. Briarflower's fixation was exhausting and most of all, beyond irritating.

While Reedfoot rolled her eyes and scowled in annoyance at Briarflower's incessant bragging, Curlewnose grumbled to himself, wishing for at least a minute of peace during hunting patrols.

"Briarflower, come on! You've spent half the dawn patrol grooming yourself!" huffed Flintgaze, his tail flicking to and fro with impatience as Briarflower inspected herself in a puddle, turning her head this way and that.

"Don't you see, Flintgaze?" she chirped, ignoring his tone. "Beauty is strength! If I appear flawless, I will inspire all the rest of our clanmates to look flawless, too. We could become the unmatched envy of all the clans!"

Flintgaze groaned, rolled his eyes, and turned away. He knew Briarflower was charming in many ways, but her obsession and delusion were wearing thin on everyone. At this point I'd be better off talking to a rock, he sighed.

"Watch me! Just a little more fluffing," she declared another time as she flipped onto her back, balancing gracefully on a rock. Her clanmates, weary from watching her perform yet another acrobatic display of beauty, exchanged exasperated glances.

"Every time she says 'just a little more', I think we should just leave her there," muttered Aspenpaw, a lanky apprentice with a bushy tail. His sister, Rowancall, nodded solemnly, tail flicking in annoyance.

The other cats of YeastClan spent their days hunting and patrolling, while Briarflower spent hers gathering herbs to concoct shiny brews for her coat and practicing poses that would make her look more regal.

To her clanmates however, she just looked plain ridiculous.

She'd often declare, "A queen must maintain her allure!" while her friends exchanged glances of despair and her clanmates just rolled their eyes for the millionth time that moon at her words.

As the moon waxed towards its full glory, Briarflower's fixation on beauty began to affect her hunting and training. She missed many catches just trying to angle her fur just right in the light of a setting sun, much to the chagrin of her clanmates.