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!
News & Updates
11.06.2022 The site has been transformed into an archive. Thank you for all the memories here!
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.
"WHAT IS UP, SUMMERCLAN?!" Carriondare, or Eshek, or whatever name she was going by these days shouted into the pollen-rich air. She was currently standing perched on the top of the cliff near the waterfall to the east, towering over SummerClan; the warm breeze buffeted her short Siamese fur, she stood tall and proud, it was all very gallant and romantic. Then, she took a blind step forward, chin still in the air - and, forgetting she was literally on a cliff, tumbled tail over head down the entirety of the rocky face, coming to a rolling stop in a patch of lush grass by the base.
"I'm fine!" she crowed weakly, still face down in the dirt.
What was she doing here, far from DayClan and NightClan and Primal Instinct and wherever else she tended to hang out? Who knew. Lucistic had told her she should pretend to be from SpringClan if Glowstar or Foxstar asked - maybe she was doing recon and had ended up in the wrong place. Maybe she was looking for a certain calico tom she'd known since her traineeship who had also just come back to life. Maybe she was just... being Eshek.
Lostkit watched the strange adult with a blank face, eyes tracking every movement – her attempt at looking majestic atop the cliff, her majestic plummet to the bottom of the cliff, and the glorious guest star to her sitcom of an existence arriving on the scene in the form of whatever dust and dirt she'd collected while she was faceplanting over and over again.
He blinked and watched her jump back up, briefly wondering if she was made of some sort of gummy substance that no matter which way it was stretched always bounced back into its original form, before raising his eyebrows and a grin spread across his face.
"What are you? A weirdo, for sure, but what kind?"
"Wow, is that a rat?" Carriondare flung back immediately, pushing herself to her paws like nothing had happened and loping past the little kit. She snapped her teeth at him as she went, the fangs cracking together sharply, and gave her tail a flick. Her words were harmless - indulgent, even, if a little biting; she was just a stunted kit in an adult body. "Don't feel good, do it, kid? Run along before someone boils you up in some juicy kitten stew."
His nose scrunched. What was a stew? Odd indeed. "Admittedly I'm not the one who just humiliated myself after bringing all eyes on me with my own little attention seeking stunt." He grinned. "It's okay, I lash out when I'm embarrassed too. Although... You're old."
"Admittedly, I'm not the one who decided to chow down on a thesaurus for breakfast, you little loser," Eshek shot back over her shoulder, still stalking off into the birches. At the kit's next comment, she suddenly stopped. "WhhhHHHHYYYYYyyyYYYYyyyyyyyYYYYYY DOES EVERYONE KEEP CALLING ME THAT?" she shrieked into the air, head thrown back to the sky, her voice on the 'why' rising and falling like a petulant scream. "I'm not old! I'm! Not! Old!" She reeled around to face the kit. "It's not my fault you're a pipsqueak with no job, no mummy, and probably no future." She held up one claw to the edge of her mouth and tilted her head, smiling.
Lostkit blinked. “Do you do any research before you start throwing around comments or do you make them up as you go along and hope one sticks? I don’t even know what a job is, I have a family, and I may not live to see tomorrow, but at least I’ll know even if I don’t make it to sunrise I won’t be as insufferable as you are.” His eyebrows quirked in pity. “Is it because you’re self-conscious about being old and grieving your youth that you act like more of a kit than I do? I’m sorry for your loss.”
Any other adult might have been embarrassed about arguing with a kit. Eshek wasn't. Kits knew what they were about and they deserved whatever came their way. "Yeah, okay, you forced my hand." Turning on her heels, Esh closed the distance between them with a few quick trots, scooped the kit up in her jaws by the scruff without missing a step, and veered to the side to start the long trek back up to the top of the cliff. "Your loving family will be sending me 'thank you' bouquets for this," she told him, voice muffled around his fur. She held her head up high and walked stiff-legged as she carried the kit, compensating for his weight.
