Once upon a time, there lived two friends in a big forest, a hen and a kirwa. A kirwa is a small animal that resembles a cat. The wild cat and the hen were the best friends, best in that part of the jungle.
The hen and the wild cat lived a small house built out of bamboo and wood. It was a big house by any animal standard. They worked together and collected food together.
And one day as the sun was about to set and darkness was yet to fall on in the forest, the wild cat asked the hen, "hey hen, where do you sleep today?"
The voice sounded as if it came from a pair of jalings being blown by the monks to welcome the dawn.
"Today I will sleep near the hearth," she lied and when the world was silent and shining stars were out, the hen was awoken suddenly by a loud crashing sound that landed near the hearth.
"Hey cat, what are doing there?" asked the hen from the windowsill.
"Byar rey mimang rama rema, gun ni mimang saka lung," the wild cat replied. (summer's dream is unclear and winter night's dream is terrible?)
The wild cat went to sleep feeling a little embarrassed about his nightmare.
The next day, again the wild cat asked in a voice that resembled jaling from the monastery," hey friend, where do you plan to sleep tonight?"
"O tonight I am planning to sleep on the windowsill," she responded him. Satisfied, the cat went to his place and waited for the darkness to grow thicker.
And when every voice subsided to the sounds of screeching crickets and owls, something landed on the windowsill- thud! And the hen who was awoken by the noise, asked the cat, "hey kirwa, what is wrong with you?"
"O sorry, this usual stuff, summer night's dream is unclear and winter's is terrible," he replied and went back.
And likewise every night the wild cat hunted for the hen but the hen slept in different place in the house every night. Thus, days piled onto days.
One day, the hen was really sad thinking about her friend's evil plot. And she thought if that was what he wanted, let him kill me. That evening, when the wild cat asked her the same question, she no more lied about her roosting place.
As the darkness deepened, a loud sound landed again by the side of the hearth, where the hen was sleeping peacefully. The sharp claws had pierced her stomach and the sheer weight of her friend broke her wings into pieces.
And before the hen breathed her last, the wild cat started pulling her furs and feathers.
The hen and the wild cat lived a small house built out of bamboo and wood. It was a big house by any animal standard. They worked together and collected food together.
And one day as the sun was about to set and darkness was yet to fall on in the forest, the wild cat asked the hen, "hey hen, where do you sleep today?"
The voice sounded as if it came from a pair of jalings being blown by the monks to welcome the dawn.
"Today I will sleep near the hearth," she lied and when the world was silent and shining stars were out, the hen was awoken suddenly by a loud crashing sound that landed near the hearth.
"Hey cat, what are doing there?" asked the hen from the windowsill.
"Byar rey mimang rama rema, gun ni mimang saka lung," the wild cat replied. (summer's dream is unclear and winter night's dream is terrible?)
The wild cat went to sleep feeling a little embarrassed about his nightmare.
The next day, again the wild cat asked in a voice that resembled jaling from the monastery," hey friend, where do you plan to sleep tonight?"
"O tonight I am planning to sleep on the windowsill," she responded him. Satisfied, the cat went to his place and waited for the darkness to grow thicker.
And when every voice subsided to the sounds of screeching crickets and owls, something landed on the windowsill- thud! And the hen who was awoken by the noise, asked the cat, "hey kirwa, what is wrong with you?"
"O sorry, this usual stuff, summer night's dream is unclear and winter's is terrible," he replied and went back.
And likewise every night the wild cat hunted for the hen but the hen slept in different place in the house every night. Thus, days piled onto days.
One day, the hen was really sad thinking about her friend's evil plot. And she thought if that was what he wanted, let him kill me. That evening, when the wild cat asked her the same question, she no more lied about her roosting place.
As the darkness deepened, a loud sound landed again by the side of the hearth, where the hen was sleeping peacefully. The sharp claws had pierced her stomach and the sheer weight of her friend broke her wings into pieces.
And before the hen breathed her last, the wild cat started pulling her furs and feathers.
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