Random Short Stories

Suffocation [🪽]

In the lush expanse of Tribe territory, beneath the towering trees, amidst the flowering meadows and above the rushing flow of the stream, lived a young Cryo named Mist Flare.

From the moment she opened her eyes, it seemed her parents, Dew Thorn and Sedge Whisker, could not hide their pride. Every small feat she achieved became an event worthy of a thunderous celebration.

From the moment she was born, Mist Flare had been the centre of her parents' entire world. They lavished her with attention, stood watch during all of her training sessions, and celebrated every single achievement with exuberance that bordered on the absurd.

It started innocently, with them loudly proclaiming their pride when she caught her first mouse. But as she grew older, their praise morphed into a daily cacophony of cheers and shout-outs.

"Look at our Misty! The bravest apprentice in the whole of the Tribe Of The Blooming Valley!" Dew Thorn would cry, her voice echoing through the clearing.

"He's right, you know! Our Misty could take down a badger!" Sedge Whisker would add, puffing out his chest proudly as the other cryptids in the vicinity all rolled their eyes in amusement—or just borderline annoyance.

It wasn't just praises for her skills in hunting or battling; it was every little thing. The way she groomed her pelt, the way she woke up early for training, how she managed to catch a single leaf in the wind.

Each and every single insignificant act suddenly turned into a grand achievement that warranted a performance of cheers loud enough to disrupt the entire Northern Kingdoms from their slumber.

"Look! Misty caught her first rabbit! Such a talented and amazing hunter!" Sedge Whisker would bellow, his baritone voice echoing like a monstrous echo through the woods, sending ripples of shock and annoyance through the other cryptids nearby.

Dew Thorn would join in with a melodic yowl, "Hooray for my brave little warrior!" Her voice was sweet, but to their daughter, it just sounded like an alarm.

While most apprentices enjoyed the praises of their parents in moderation, Mist Flare found herself at the center of a never-ending storm of attention. Each day was a tethered adventure where her every move was scrutinised and celebrated.

If she climbed a tree, her parents would be there, tumbling over one another in elation as though she had single-pawedly brought down a rogue. And if she even half-heartedly tried to leap across a small stream, there they were again, cheering as if she had saved the entire tribe from a natural disaster.

As she grew, the young Cryo's embarrassment grew alongside her. The incessant praise felt less like encouragement and more like a metal shackle chaining her firmly in place away from her dreams.

She had dreamed of being a fierce warrior, respected by her peers, but instead, she felt like a miniature show cat, performing for an audience that would never fade.

Mist Flare felt trapped in a gilded cage. She began to dread each new day, knowing that the moment she attempted anything, her parents would leap into an ecstatic frenzy, their loud voices drawing all sorts of unnecessary attention from all corners of the grand tribe.

Other apprentices began to avoid her, fearing that any minor success would turn into another grand show that would humiliate the Cryo and embarrass them to their wits.

One day, after a particularly mortifying morning spent hunting with her parents, her frayed patience bubbled close to its limit. She had barely caught a single sparrow—just a pitiful morsel that would not even feed a kit.

Yet, as she returned to the camp, Sedge Whisker and Dew Thorn both erupted into a chaotic cheer that rattled the very leaves on the trees sculpting the landscape.