Random Short Stories

Paws To Yourself [🪽]

In the sprawling territory of the Guild Of Freedom, beneath the canopy of ancient oaks and amidst the rustle of underbrush, a wave of mischief swept through the apprentices' den.

The sun had barely risen, casting dappled light across the ground, but one apprentice, a lithe Bio with black spotted tabby fur and soft green eyes was already wide awake, plotting his latest joke.

This apprentice was none other than Burnet, an apprentice notorious for his relentless pranks and insufferable sense of humour.

He was a particularly disruptive figure — scruffy tabby fur and hyperactive green eyes. He seemed to feed off humour, or at least his own warped sense of it, convinced that the key to guild camaraderie lay in laughter.

However, the rest of the apprentices found his antics anything but amusing.

"Hey, Fen-Fen! Catch!" Burnet announced one evening, seconds before launching a mud-covered moss ball aimed directly at the blue mackerel tabby she-cat's face.

The ball splattered mud across Fennel's features, and the group burst into what felt like forced laughter. Well, most of them, anyway. Fennel's grey and green eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Very funny, Burnet," she hissed, wiping the muck from her fur and feathers with utter disdain as she wrinkled her nose. "Why don't you try being less of a pest for once?"

"Oh, come on! Lighten up!" The tabby tom replied, unruffled. "It's just a little bit of mud. You're going to be a warrior soon; you can handle it!"

Fennel had just snarled in disgust before stomping off to the river to wash her face, leaving a giggling Burnet rolling on the floor with laughter behind.

"Look who's up early!" he cackled another morning, tail twitching with glee as he approached his fellow apprentices. "I've got a surprise for you all!"

As he spoke, his mind whirred with ideas—things like sticking thorns in his friends' bedding or hiding the fresh-kill until someone discovered it and panicked.

The others were still half-asleep and groaned in response. Vanilla, a near ivory-white Scoto-Bio mix rolled over, her spiky fur bristling. "Burnet, for the sake of the holy Celestials above, just let us rest!"

But Burnet pretended he didn't hear. He had leapt over a log instead, his figure striking a ridiculous pose. "What's wrong? Can't handle a little morning excitement?"

"Excitement?" hissed Pochard, a dark ginger Abyssinian tom with the Xylo elemental, finally sitting up with his claws all completely unsheathed. "What you call excitement, we call torment! Piss off and leave us alone!"

"Aw, come on, guys!" Burnet giggled, oblivious to their growing annoyance. "You all need to lighten up! How about a little mud bath?"

With that, he dashed off towards the small brook nearby, where the willow trees draped low and the sunlight glinted off the murky water. He scooped up a hefty clump of mud and dashed back towards the den.

"Look out, here comes the mud monster!" he shouted, launching the muddy projectile towards them with all the finesse of a clumsy rabbit.

With barely any time to react or dodge, the smelly, wet, clinging mass splattered against the side of Pochard's face, and a chorus of protests erupted from the other apprentices.

"Burnet, STOP!"

"You're ruining everything!"

"Go away!"

But the meddling apprentice just laughed, the sound grating against the sense of harmony that usually filled the apprenticeship den. He danced away, fur slick with mud, entirely unconcerned by their fury.