Warrior Cat Clans 2 (WCC2 aka Classic) is a roleplay site inspired by the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Whether you are a fan of the books or new to the Warrior cats world, WCC2 offers a diverse environment with over a decade’s worth of lore for you - and your characters - to explore. Join us today and become a part of our ongoing story!
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Here on Classic we understand that sometimes life can get difficult and we struggle. We may need to receive advice, vent, know that we are not alone in our difficult times, or even just have someone listen to what's going on in our lives. In light of these times, we have created the support threads below that are open to all of our members at any time.
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Post by achromatic on May 31, 2021 16:53:30 GMT -5
@ian
She was sick. Or perhaps not sick, but there was no way Bermondsey could keep an eye on both kits and still continue forward. His lifestyle was not conductive to having kits at all, but what could he do? Aleksy seemed to be fine, but if he was to be honest, Evenie wasn't looking good at all. She had been lagging behind, and even when he carried her, she felt sickly and hot, as if the exhaustion was catching onto her.
"Papa," her voice seemed hoarse, "can we take a break?"
Bermondsey silently came to a stop, sniffing the air. Summerclan territory. It did them no good to stay on another clan's land; cats around here were territorial, after all. His tail lashed once in frustration. He was never meant to be a parent. He had never planned on being one either. Bermondsey knew exactly what his family was like, and while the others didn't seem to care, he knew of the curse. The curse that had killed his oldest brother, the one that had killed his mother and driven his father mad, the one that stalked his sister all her life after her mate had been killed.
She had given him Evenie and Aleksy to care for, to pretend that she wasn't the half-breed kit she was, to pretend as if they were his own. She had trusted him with their lives despite his protests, and...for once, he had felt a shred of sympathy for them, for her. Safiya was always the kindest of his siblings, after all. She had said something about how he could pull it off–they looked somewhat like him, after all–and how could he say no?
"We'll take a break for a little while," he reassured the kitten, rasping a tongue over her fur. He doubted that she'd survive this journey, at least not without some help.
"Papa?" Aleksy whispered, glancing at Evenie, who's eyes were already closed, "will she...die?"
Howlingheart was a cat who was... not that qualified to stumble into the situation that he was about to. The tom knew only a few things: how to be depressed, how to rear plants, and how to make flower displays. The rest of the world was an enigma to him, at least moreso than others in the clan. Most SummerClan cats chalked the tom's existence up to a loss; it was a tragedy that the dog took Foxpaw's life, but no one could have imagined just how many lives would be sucked away by its claws. Ravenpaw became Howlingheart, Coyotewild became Phantomfox... The whole family had been irrevocably damaged by his sister's death.
So, with all that in mind, it was of great surprise to him that he ended up here, stumbling into the direct line of sight of a tom that was completely unrecognizable to him. Following him, it seemed, were two children. Upon first glance, it was already clear that one of them was significantly less healthy than the other. His eyes widened and the tom increased his speed as he closed the distance, the herbs that he carried around his neck barely resisting gravity's pressure to fall.
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2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Jun 2, 2021 10:08:07 GMT -5
Immediately, Bermondsey's fur prickled, standing up and alert. A hiss left his mouth as he stood over the kits, green eyes blazing as he regarded the SummerClan cat with wariness. He knew he was in their territory; the scent markers told him that much, but he had been raised differently from the softer clan cats; it had been every cat for himself in the city, and he had outlasted most of his siblings, after all. He wasn't unwilling to fight, especially to keep the two safe, even if they weren't his.
Yet, the tom didn't seem...hostile. In fact, the herbs around his neck seemed to say otherwise. Bermondsey had his own dignity certainly, but at the sight of Evenie, barely awake, almost made him desperate enough to beg for help, despite his mother's words, that a cat like them never asks others for anything, they demanded it.
He flattened his fur, his expression still cold, but his pose more relaxed, as if he didn't see Howlingheart as a threat. "What do you want?" the tom spoke, fighting to keep the aggression from his voice, "if you're here to chase us out of your territory, we're already on our way."
Aleksy peeked out from behind Bermondsey's left paw. "Papa," he whispered, "is the other cat going to kill us?"
Bermondsey's expression softened for a brief moment, rasping his tongue on the top of the kit's head. "No dear," he spoke reassuringly, "they'll never get past me in the first place. Your mom trusted the right cat with you two."
He looked surprised at how the tom reacted; why would he want to chase him off? It would be different if he was stealing or hunting on their land, and even then, Howlingheart was not qualified to do much chasing, espeically of a tom who looked like he could quite easily put a cap in his ass with little effort. "Oh," he found himself meowing, unable to quite put together a different reaction.
It was then that he heard the kitten ask, and the tom's eyes softened even further. "I would never hurt you," he promised, crouching down slightly so that he looked less intimidatingly large. "Kittens are to be honored and protected, no matter who they are."
He then looked back to the older tom, the look in his eyes still a little sad. "I am not going to chase you out. Your children look as if they could use care." He was no medicine cat, of course, but his time as a garden keeper had taught him the basics. The tom dumped the herbs off his shoulder, pushing one towards him. It was a clump of chamomile, large enough to be split between the three cats easily. "Here, take this. You all look as if a little extra traveling strength would be helpful for you."
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Post by achromatic on Jun 4, 2021 8:07:01 GMT -5
His expression was unreadable as he stared at the other cat as if wondering what Howlingheart was playing at. Kindness was not something he was used to. Was this a trick? Certainly, the other cat had no reason to help him; they were on his territory and he knew that if this had been reversed–if he had found this tom on Primal Instinct's territory–he wouldn't hesitate to kill this cat. Still, he'd be a fool to resist the cat's kindness. As Howlingheart dropped the chamomile, he hesitated for a moment, before taking the chamomile, tearing it apart with his paws and pushing it towards Aleksy.
"Eat," the tom mumbled, as he took some in his jaws, swallowing it despite the strange taste. The young kit sniffed it, before chewing on it obediently, grimacing too, a mirror of Bermondsey's expression. The older tom tried to wake Evenie, but she didn't seem to want anything, only giving out a whine, not moving to eat.
There was no way he could move with her now. The tom hated relying on others, and certainly, if it had been only him out here, this wouldn't have been a problem, but he already owed this cat for the herbs. Looking to Howlingheart wearily, he decided that Evenie's health was more important than his own pride.
"I don't know what's wrong with her," his voice was quiet, "but she won't survive like this. I wouldn't ask this of you if I wasn't...desperate, but I need to know how to keep her alive. I'll do anything. Please."
He looked at the tom for a long moment as Bermondsey tried to decide what exactly to make of his kindness. Likely, this kindness, though, was not unique to the tom. SummerClan was simply not the League. They were warm and often the embodiment of a warm summer's evening. Howlingheart was no exception to the quiet pleasantness many (but not all) cats from the clan had. Even if he hadn't been part of SummerClan, though, it was unlikely the tom would have turned down the other's plea for help. Even if he wasn't conditioned to view pleasant goodness as the norm, he was genuine and kind naturally, although his nature was often masked by the pain that still radiated in the corners of his eyes.
Maybe this was StarClan's way of absolving him of that sadness. He had been unable to save Foxpaw. No one had been able to save his littermate, not Ravenpaw (his former name), not Coyotewild (the former name of Phantomfox of NightClan). It had been a horrific accident, but it really was an accident. Maybe this time, though, StarClan had sent Bermondsey to him so that he could repay back the debt he felt he owed by being unable to save his sister. He couldn't save Foxpaw, but maybe he could help save this little one...
He pulled closer to her, pressing his paw gently to her flank. Her skin was warm, no, hot. Bermondsey was right; she was sick, far sicker than the other so far. The desperation in the tom's voice cut at his soul; it was the same desperation that he himself had used to plea with the medicine cat when he worked on Foxpaw. Please, I'll do anything, just save her... The sentiment behind the words was all too familiar.
"I know a cat that would be more equipped to help her than I," he meowed after a long moment, pulling away from the cat. "The SummerClan medicine cat, Greythorn (????????), has both the access to herbs and the formal training. I am sure that if I ask Ratstar, you three would be more than welcome to stay until she has gotten better, and then you can return to whatever journey brought you here?"
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Jun 14, 2021 8:31:08 GMT -5
Bermondsey didn't know what to feel. There was a sense of trepidation in his expression at the mere thought of staying with other cats. He didn't know what these clan cats were like. At the very best, they were all free love and friendship and happy-go-lucky, and he'd be the awkward cat out, murking their skies with the perpetual gray cloud that hung over him like a fog. The worst? They'd be furious at a cat like him trying to cross their territories and he'd have to fight a whole group of them off while Evenie was recovering.
Still, it was worth the risk right? Evenie needed help, and this cat was nice. He could suffer through strange conversations and weird glances for long enough to get the kit back to full health, right? Swallowing his pride once more, he simply nodded at the other tom.
"Come on, Aleksy," he murmured, "we'll be staying with these cats for a little while, just so Evenie feels better, okay?" The young kit looked up with wondering eyes, nodding at the tom's words, as he picked up the smaller kit once more, barely hearing a mewl of protest, and looked to Howlingheart, blinking as if to ask him to lead the way.
