Random Short Stories

Family Values [🦋]

In the heart of EchoClan, where the gentle ripples of the river brushed against the banks of soft moss and willow, a young tom named Tumblepaw was known far and wide for his insatiable appetite—not merely for food, but for attention and admiration.

His glossy pelt shimmered under the sun, attesting to his lineage, yet it concealed a dark flaw deep within him; Tumblepaw cared little for just about anything else, whether it was clan duties or simple apprentice chores, beyond his own desires.

He was not just any apprentice; he was the sole focus of his own world—a world that revolved around him and his endless desires.

From the moment he entered the apprentices' den, his mother, Rosemaryflight, watched him with a mixture of pride and worry. Tumblepaw had been the first one of the litter to open his eyes, standing as a beacon of promise, yet as he grew that hope turned bittersweet.

Rosemaryflight, a diligent warrior, had lovingly groomed him from the moment he was born. She had taught him the ways of the forest, shared stories of bravery, and emphasised the importance of kinship with the clan.

But her lessons all seemed to constantly dissolve like mist in Tumblepaw's mind. To him, the only lesson that mattered was how to satisfy himself, regardless of anyone else's needs.

While his littermates explored their surroundings, helping their mother and learning the ways of the clan, Tumblepaw preferred to lounge in sunlit spots, dreaming only of his next meal.

"Tumblepaw! It's time for the morning hunt!" called Cicadapaw, his brother, one of the few remaining voices willing to engage him. Yet, Tumblepaw merely rolled over with half-opened eyes, muttering, "I'll catch up later."

Each mealtime was a ritual of destruction for Tumblepaw, a time he honed his ruthless tactics. Every evening, when the clan gathered for their meal, Tumblepaw would linger in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to pounce on the fresh-kill pile.

The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air, but all he could think about was the tantalising scents wafting through the air. "Tumblepaw! Come eat!" His father, Ermineflicker, would call, his voice full of warmth that he barely acknowledged.

He would usually wait until the fresh-kill pile overflowed with fish and plump mice, only to shove aside the smaller pieces and seize every sizable morsel, leaving only scraps for his family.

With a careless flick of his tail, Tumblepaw would glide over to the pile. He would survey the offerings, his eyes glinting like the stars above. With no consideration for his littermates, he would devour the largest pieces of meat, stuffing his face until he could eat no more.

If his siblings, Cicadapaw and Primrosepaw, ventured close, he would hiss, "Get away! This is mine!" The other apprentices would watch in disbelief, their hunger gnawing at their bellies as Tumblepaw snatched their shared without a second thought.

"Why is he taking so much?" whispered Primrosepaw, his sister, to her brother as they stared at the depleted pile. "There's hardly enough left for everyone else!"

"Just ignore him," Cicadapaw replied, though his empathy waned with each passing day. "He'll only grow heavier while we train."

As the days turned into weeks, little changed for the young apprentice. His insatiable appetite made his physique bulkier; he grew plump while the others remained agile and fit, forging the hidden boundaries of camaraderie.

Cicadapaw and Primrosepaw often exchanged nervous glances and whispers, each growing more distant from their brother. Yet their parents, ever compassionate, continued to call for him, hoping he would change.