Random Short Stories

Loyalty [🪽]

[Saw an unfinished Reddit post about someone's shitty boyfriend leaving her for her sister, and since it wasn't finished I decided to give this story the ending it deserves]
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The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow over the lush valley where the tribe's camp nestled among the rock formations. Yet, within the loud howls and low growls of camaraderie, a dark whirlwind was brewing.

It was a peaceful day, one that should have been filled with the pleasant chatter of warriors returning from patrol and the scent of herbs wafting from the healer's area. Instead, the tension was palpable in the air, thick and heavy like a storm front.

Among the tribe, Carrion Hiss stood stalwart, her sleek brown fur marked with the afterglow of seasonal rain. She was proud of her position as a full tribe warrior, especially since she had earned her title a full moon ago alongside her mate, Frigate Bristle.

He was stately—a sleek tom with a coat of swirling greys and soft blues, eyes like storm clouds full of unbridled ambition. But the loyalty she believed they shared had shattered, unbeknownst to her, long before her paws had set upon the den of warriors, where camaraderie was supposed to live.

Days turned to weeks, and Carrion Hiss began to notice the quiet exchanges between Frigate Bristle and her younger sister, Vulture Scar—a brown tabby with piercing green eyes that glimmered like moss.

At first, she dismissed the unease curling in her belly as mere jealousy; after all, Vulture Scar had always looked up to her, and she was protective of her sibling.

But then the whispers began, sweet honeyed lies that dripped into her heart like poisoned candy. Reassuring gestures shared behind closed paws. Light laughter that hung like a noose in the air whenever Carrion Hiss ventured near.

It was the complete disregard they exhibited that pierced Carrion Hiss like a thorn; she often witnessed Vulture Scar showering Frigate Bristle with affections as if Carrion Hiss were nothing more than a ghost haunting their every moment.

Today, that sorrow was not hers alone; it echoed around her as whispers and glances glided through the tribe. She watched as her mate, Frigate Bristle, and her younger sister, Vulture Scar, stood together beneath the hanging branches of the old willow, their voices rising in laughter.

Vulture Scar couldn't contain herself, her joy infectious. "I never knew life could be this perfect, Frigate! After all those moons with Carrion Hiss, I can see how better it is now," she gushed. Frigate Bristle leaned in toward her, smirking conspiratorially, his stormy green eyes flashing with wicked delight.

With each praise showered upon Vulture Scar, Carrion Hiss's heart twisted. "You're so fierce and beautiful," Frigate said, his voice syrupy sweet. "It is such a relief to have such a perfect sister who's actually worthy of me."

At the mention of their 'relationship,' it felt as though the ground beneath Carrion Hiss shifted. A flicker of anger ignited within her, but she swallowed it down, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her hurt.

It seemed like every afternoon, as the sun dipped low in the sky, painting the world with a palette of crimson and orange, Carrion Hiss saw Vulture Scar and Frigate Bristle lounging together near the tribe's central rock, where warriors often gathered to share tales of valour and victories.

Their laughter rang out, stark and penetrating. They were speaking in hushed tones, their words muffled, but Carrion Hiss felt the sting of insult in the air.

"Look at us, the perfect pair!" Vulture Scar chirped, her voice bright and excited like a kitten's. "You know, Frigate Bristle, I think you've really found your true match in me, much better than... her."