Random Short Stories

Watch Your Mouth [🪽]

In the sprawling, flower-ridden meadow territory of the Tribe Of The Blooming Valley, dusk settled like a muffling blanket over the dense undergrowth.

Oscuro Ripple, a lean young tom with a mottled coat of earth-toned browns and blacks, padded along the banks of the narrow river, the weight of his thoughts dragging him down like the wet mud beneath his paws.

He often wondered if he'd ever find a she-cat who would look at him with anything more than indifference. With the disdainful views he had cultivated, he tucked himself away from others, convinced it was simply easier to admire beauty from a distance than to attempt connection and risk rejection.

Oscuro Ripple often watched from the fringes as she-cats groomed each other, their laughter like music that twisted a knife in his heart. Never once was he the object of their attention, something that bothered him much more than it should.

Tales of love and affection gripped the clan like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind, and this made him feel as if he had been born with a cloud over his head, hidden from the gentle warmth of companionship.

Oscuro Ripple harboured deep-seated frustrations, which he often directed towards others, particularly to the confident she-cats of his tribe who seemed to attract toms with ease.

He viewed their flirtations as shallow distractions and saw the toms who chased after them as nothing more than fools. After all, why were they wasting precious time searching for a partner when they could be providing for the tribe instead?

Among his peers, Oscuro Ripple had become notorious for his bitter comments about she-cats and those toms who dared to pursue them so openly. "Why bother?" he would sneer. "They only want the muscular, handsome ones anyway; we're simply prey in their eyes."

"They're just using their looks to gain attention," he often scoffed to his friends, though they rolled their eyes at his bitterness. To Oscuro Ripple, the concept of being desired was a far-off dream, and he resented the inability to command the same kind of admiration.

His words, fuelled by his own frustrations, echoed in the clearing where young warriors often gathered with laughter and tales of romance, feelings that were foreign to him.

One evening, while he sulked in the shadows during a gathering, Oscuro Ripple crossed the line when he made a flippant remark aimed at one of the most respected warriors in the tribe, a she-cat named Saola Glade.

She was renowned not just for her skills in battle but also for her fierce loyalty and protective nature towards her fellow clanmates. As the other warriors shared tales of dashing rescues and tender moments with shadows of their mates, Oscuro Ripple spoke up.

"Honestly, can't they see how foolish they are? Chasing after fleeting affections while we're out here—" he motioned dismissively with his tail, "—keeping the tribe safe? It's pathetic." His voice dripped with disdain.

Saola Glade's amber eyes flashed dangerously at his words. "What's pathetic is hiding behind your bitterness and thinking it makes you wise. You've never sought to understand love, Oscuro Ripple; instead, you let your envy rot your heart."

A murmur of agreement rose from the group, but Oscuro Ripple merely huffed in response, his pride not willing to admit he had poked a bear.

"Why waste your lives chasing after toms who'd rather flaunt their strength than put their hearts into something real?" he sneered, his sleek tail lashing. The group fell silent, shock written across their faces.

One she-cat, a fiery, fierce-furred warrior named Ashen Blight, narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you know about love, Oscuro Ripple? You hide behind your bitterness while others share real connections."