SING SING SING // Halfstem's stories

"There was an abandoned farm. A big one, at that. There lived a single, black and white-furred loner dog, but unlike most dogs, it was very friendly, and could talk like us!" The tom exclaimed, and looked at the kits gathered around him with wide eyes, taking a short pause to brainstorm of more to add to his little tale.

"Often, cats got lost nearby the farm, and the dog always came and helped them, or tried to, as the sight sometimes scared the others away. The dog never left the farm, though, until some cats started making rumors of a ferocious dog living in those parts. Cats no longer dared to go around the farm, and that made the dog very sad, as it had no friends."

"But then! Something happened!" The tom mewed suddenly, after a long pause. "A single kit was curious if the fables of the dog were true, and went to the farm. It was a long journey for the young kit, but she made it to the farm, where she snuck up on the dog sniffling and crying in the corner. She approached it, and asked the dog what was wrong. The dog got up, and turned to the young kit, who was tilting her head. The dog explained that the rumors of it had scared all its friends away. The kit understood, and told the dog to follow her."

"So, they journeyed back to the clan's camp, where the others were terrified of the dog, though I think the dog was more terrified of them. After a while of settling down, the dog got to introduce itself properly, and the clan accepted it! And so, the clan got a new warrior, the dog, now named Fluffsnout... It is unknown whether or not the clan, or the dog, or the kit still exist, but one thing is known; the kit, and the dog became best friends, and eventually, led the clan together, marching into battle to protect their clan, with the kit on Fluffsnout's back..."

"A long time ago, there was a vast, mountainous forest. There lived two clans; StoneClan and RockClan. StoneClanners were smooth, better with their words than brute strength, and they were faster and slicker than the bulky RockClanners, who were stronger, better in fair combat. They weren't friends, no, no. They were fearsome rivals, who battled to no end."

"But, many generations into their rivalry, something happened. A single cat rose up from the rest, to start a rebellion against the endless battles of RockClan and StoneClan. Many other cats joined her, eventually, only the leaders of RockClan and StoneClan left in their respective clans. They had to face eachother, surrounded by the cats of the rebellion. And what happened then? Did the other one win?" The tom gave a long, dramatic pause. "They lunged at eachother, hissing and growling, claws out and arms stretched at the other's neck... They both killed eachother at the exact same time, and there, begins the reign of the previously rebelling cats; now known as BoulderClan... It is unknown whether or not they still exist, but occasionally, rumors are heard of them, living in harmony."

"You ever heard of red dogs? Well, this story is about one, their king, actually." The tom mewed, his tone getting slightly more sinister towards the end. "The king, you see, was fearsome and cruel. He would send his minions to battle for his kingdom, he himself sitting on his throne instead. He would also take everything for himself, not even figuratively, but literally. No matter how much you offered him, he always took more and more. Like stealing freshkill from others, for example."

"Then, his kingdom got fed up with him. He was so needlessly greedy, that some of the wisest members gathered together, and made up a plan for his destruction. The plan was rather simple, in fact. They used his greed against him. But how, you ask?" The tom clearly knew the answer, as he himself asked the question. "Earlier, I mentioned freshkill. Well, the members made up a big, fancy feast for the red dog king, knowing he would eat everything offered."

"And so, the king began eating. He ate, ate and ate. He was already full, but he just kept eating, like the greedy monster he was, not allowing the others to get anything. Until..." The elder paused, giving everyone a dramatic look. "He passed out! and never woke up... No one knows what happened, but it is said, that he ate his own greed."

"And, the moral of the story is...?" Halfstem gave the kits a warm smile, patiently awaiting a response from them regarding the rather grim, but still well-teaching tale.

"This one's about unusual friends, as a few other of my other stories have been."

"There was an abandoned twoleg place. There lived many mice, and it was part of a clan's hunting grounds. But one thing about these mice was different, for they could talk like we do! But that was normal back then, and didn't change a thing about them being freshkill."

"Though, one day, the leader of the mice came to the clan leader, and asked them to stop hunting on their little twoleg place, and the mice would return the favor in the clan's time of need. The leader of the clan agreed, and told everyone not to hunt the mice, and the warriors and apprentices listened well to their leader's words."

"The mice and the clan lived peacefully, neither going on the other's territory. But then, one day, a few twolegs came by, and started capturing the cats with weird, rough, holed fur, called nets. No matter how much the cats tried, they couldn't get free. It was time for the mice to act. They received a message, that some cats, along with the leader, had been captured. They rushed over, bit the nets open, and the cats were free once again! And so, began the friendship between the mice of the twoleg place, and the clan."

"There was an ordinary clan, in an ordinary forest. They lived an ordinary life, but something was not so ordinary about it. You see, there was this one young warrior, who wasn't quite a warrior, he was more of a singer, like I am a storyteller." The elder's whiskers twitched in amusement at his own witty remark, as he knew very well he was neither young, or ever a warrior. "He sang and sang his songs, to a point where everyone got mad at him. He got exiled, but he didn't let that stop his singing."

"The now exiled warrior sang his songs in the nearby twoleg place, singing of clan life and the wondrous tales of ancient, fearsome leaders. He gathered quite a group of listeners in the alley, who danced along to his songs. He sang and sang, on and on. He never let his passion fade away."

"One day, the listeners requested that they would travel to the clans, singing and dancing, and so, they did. Singing, they first traveled to the first clan; SnowClan. Then the next being FrostClan, the next; WaterClan. He sang and sang, gathering more and more listeners and dancers behind him. And finally, their final destination; BlizzardClan. BlizzardClan's leader was surprised to see the so hated singer come back with such an enthusiastic and loving group behind him. The clan's leader was confused, but accepted the fact, and the whole clan joined the now popular singer."

"And so, the clans banded together into a jolly group of dancing and singing, never stopping on their endless travels to gather more listeners."