It was a bright spring morning in Mossywood Forest. Klaus and Ole sat on their favorite rock underneath a beautiful cherry tree, watching the other cats go about their day.

Klaus sighed, his tail flicking in frustration. “Why is everyone so selfish? Mittens won’t share her sunspot, Whiskers keeps teasing the kittens, and no one helped me when I dropped my fish this morning.” Ole nodded. “Yeah, I wish everyone would just be kinder.” Klaus’s ears perked up. “What if we make a rule? If everyone has to be kind, the forest will be perfect!” Ole’s eyes widened. “That’s brilliant!”

Excited, they hurried to the grand oak tree, where Mayor Toadsworth, an old and wise cat, sat atop his mossy stump. “A rule that says everyone must be kind?” the mayor meowed, rubbing his chin. “Sounds… ambitious.” “It will make the forest peaceful forever!” Klaus insisted. The mayor thought for a long moment, then raised his wooden staff.
”Then let it be law! From this day forth, all cats must always be kind.”

At first, it was wonderful. Kittens got extra grooming, elder cats were given the best sunspots, and even the grumpy alley cats were polite. But soon, something strange happened. Klaus noticed that simple words no longer seemed good enough. Saying “Thank you” wasn’t enough anymore.

“I am eternally grateful beyond the stars!” replaced it. “Good morning” became “Magnificent, radiant, divine morning to the most wonderful being in the universe!” “I’m sorry” turned into, “I have shamed my ancestors and must live in exile.”

Conversations became long, exhausting performances. Instead of saying, “Hurry up, we’re late!” cats now purred,
“I deeply respect your natural rhythm, but if you could perhaps hasten your elegant stride, we might arrive punctually.”

One day, Ole made a fish pie. It was terrible. But no one dared to tell him. “This pie must have been touched by the Great Fish Spirit itself!” one cat declared. “I weep from joy at the flavors!” another sobbed. Ole beamed. “Wow! I’ll bake another!”

Klaus sighed as he watched forced smiles and flowery speeches spread across the forest. “I don’t think anyone means what they say anymore.” Determined to fix things, he had a new idea. “If rules don’t work, let’s try rewards instead!” Klaus announced.

And so, the Golden Leaf System was born. Every act of kindness earned a shiny golden leaf, which could be traded for treats or soft nests. At first, it worked wonderfully. Then… things got strange.

Cats who never needed help began tripping over nothing. If a cat saw a friend, they would stage a small accident so that the friend could “rescue” them and earn a golden leaf. One day, Klaus watched a young kitten reaching for a berry. Before helping, the kitten quickly glanced around to see if anyone was watching—just to make sure he’d get a reward.

Rumors spread that some cats had even built traps for others—just so they could “heroically” free them and collect golden leaves. A week later, Klaus and Ole saw a cat draped entirely in golden leaves, being carried on a throne by admiring fans. Klaus’s stomach twisted.

One evening, the mayor called them back to the grand oak. “Klaus. Ole.” He peered at them with knowing eyes. “This isn’t working.” Klaus sighed, his tail curling around his paws. “We just wanted to make things better… but we made it worse.”

The next morning, Klaus, Ole, and the mayor gathered all the forest cats. “The law is gone,” the mayor announced. Most cats sighed in relief. Others hesitated. “But… what if no one is kind anymore?” At first, things were awkward. Some cats waited for golden leaves that never came. Others struggled to speak normally again.

But slowly, the forest returned to the way it used to be. It wasn’t perfect. Some cats were still selfish. Many still argued.
That evening, as Klaus and Ole sat on their rock beneath the cherry tree, they watched the forest hum with life.

“Not everyone is always kind now,” Ole observed.
”No,” Klaus agreed.
”But when they are—it’s real.”