Every society of beasts, whether furred, feathered, or scaled, requires order. To keep harmony in the wilderness, the creatures of the Great Forest held their annual Assembly in the Clearing, where voices both small and mighty were given audience. From the tiniest ant to the grandest elephant, all came to listen, deliberate, and safeguard the balance of the woods.

But one fateful season, the Assembly witnessed a spectacle it would never forget: the rise of a beast who was neither lion nor ape, neither predator nor prey, but a grotesque fusion of all. His mane shone like a lion’s crown, his grin bared the slyness of a hyena, and his gestures mimicked the swagger of apes. He called himself guardian of the forest, but what followed revealed something else entirely.

The Oration of the Beast

The creature mounted the Stone of Speakers with the confidence of one who had rehearsed his triumph. His voice boomed through the trees, thick with promises and thunder. He spoke of destiny, of greatness, of unseen enemies plotting in shadows. Yet for all his sound and fury, truth was absent—like water promised to a thirsty throat but withheld at the last sip.

The forest grew uneasy, and soon the whispers of dissent began.

The Hare’s Suspicion

The hare, whose ears caught every false note, trembled. “This one is a charlatan,” he muttered. “His tongue drips with lies sweetened by vanity. He promises light but carries only shadows.”

The Buffalo’s Lament

The buffalo, weary from years of toil, stamped the ground. “I know the scent of ruin,” he declared. “This one dreams of conquest, not care. Where we see harvest, he sees pillage. A monster in deed stands before us.”

The Jackals’ Howl

The jackals, eager gossips of the forest, burst into nervous laughter. “Do you hear the frenzy in his roar?” they cried. “It is not leadership but madness. He mistakes noise for wisdom, fury for strength. Behold a maniac dressed as a savior!”

The Owl’s Warning

The owl, patient guardian of old knowledge, peered down with solemn eyes. “No, my friends,” he said gravely, “do not dismiss him as mere fool. His chaos conceals a careful pattern. Each word is a step in a trap. This is the mind of a fiend, weaving ruin as if it were order.”

The Deer’s Fear

The deer shivered, her fawns pressed close. “There is no warmth in his heart. I see only emptiness, colder than winter. He is a psychopath who counts lives as pebbles, who weighs suffering like numbers on a slate.”

The Parrot’s Mockery

From the branches came the parrot’s shrill laughter. “Ha! He speaks of the forest, yet gazes only at himself. Each sentence is a mirror reflecting his own face. A narcissist, plain and simple—he worships not the trees nor the rivers, but the echo of his own name.”

The Elephant’s Memory

At last the elephant, ancient and dignified, raised his trunk. “I have lived through many seasons,” he rumbled. “I have seen beasts who claimed crowns, only to leave ashes. Remember well, children: the perfect villain is not one vice but many—charlatan’s tongue, monster’s deed, maniac’s roar, fiend’s cunning, psychopath’s void, narcissist’s soul. And before us stands their union.”

The Silence After

The beast’s speech ended in a roar that shook the clearing. But no applause followed, no cheer, no chant of allegiance. Instead, a heavy silence fell. The animals dispersed quietly, each carrying dread in their hearts.

The rivers murmured unease, the winds whispered warnings, and even the insects fell into dissonant song. All had seen what the Assembly revealed: not a guardian of the forest, but a calamity in disguise.

Moral of the Fable

And so the owl spoke once more, his voice grave beneath the stars:

“Beware the beast who mistakes the forest for his mirror. For when such a one reigns, trees shall fall, rivers shall choke, and the wilderness itself shall be shackled beneath the weight of his vanity. To crown such a creature is not to choose a leader—it is to summon ruin.”