This is a series of images I generated in the WA Image Studio*, which was released in its first iteration in early November 2025. I wanted to compare each of the Art Styles within the studio, using the same exact prompt for each one, so we could get a good idea of how they compare with each other. I had a little poem or story generated for each one as well, because — well, why not:
The Kitten Who Collected Moonbeams
Once upon a midnight clear, in a garden tucked between the stars and dreams, there lived a small black kitten named Clover. She had the roundest eyes you ever saw—like two polished river stones catching lamplight—and a habit of sitting very, very still.
“What are you doing?” asked the butterfly, who was part monarch, part sky, and entirely curious.
“I’m collecting moonbeams,” Clover whispered, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the silver light pooling around her paws.
“Whatever for?” The butterfly landed on a nearby sunflower, which seemed confused about whether it should be awake at this hour.
“Well,” said Clover, her tail flicking, “someone has to gather them up before morning comes and scares them all away. The moon works so hard making them, you see. It would be terribly rude to let them go to waste.”
The butterfly considered this. The sunflowers leaned in closer to listen, their great golden faces nodding in the gentle night breeze. Even the clovers—Clover’s namesakes—seemed to glow a bit greener with approval.
“And what will you do with all these moonbeams once you’ve collected them?” asked the butterfly.
Clover’s whiskers twitched with a secret smile. “Why, I’ll save them for the dark days, of course. For when someone needs a little magic. For when the world forgets how to shine.”
The butterfly thought this was perhaps the wisest thing she’d ever heard. She decided to stay awhile, dancing loops around the moon, keeping the little kitten company while she did her important work.
And if you ever find yourself in a sunflower field at midnight, and you see a small black shadow sitting perfectly still beneath the stars, you’ll know: that’s Clover, still collecting moonbeams, one precious silver strand at a time.
-Claude Sonnet
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