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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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.
Fog coated the partially blazed snowy trails that a few BrookClan cats trudged through enough to make easily accessible. The dusk was young and as the temperatures lowered the fog only poured more heavily onto the paths making it harder for any BrookClan cat to see ahead of them. There wasn't a single living sound except for a cats own crunch paw steps in the snow terrain. Along the trail were paw prints leading onto the trail. They were tiny, possibly a BrookClan kit who had wanted to be an apprentice early and was traveling in the dead of night. It was enough for a warrior to worry. As the narrow trail winded into an even thinner path the paw prints seemingly stopped.
Echoes of a kitten giggling murmured lowly in the desolate woodland. Up in the tree where the trail ended a pair of yellow eyes stared down below, watching for any cats deciding to travel down this lone foreboding trail.
"Is there something particularly funny up there? Did a squirrel grow wings?" Her voice was amused slightly as she looked up into the tree. Cynder was a cat who was often around these parts wandering, simply because she didn't have anything better to do. It wasn't like she did many actual warrior things. She was bored of hunting, and few cats wanted to fight her anymore. Her schemes, then, were the only thing that kept her occupied, but even those weren't daily. Most of the time, when she wasn't causing trouble for random cats in the group, she was just wandering. She especially liked this at night, because that meant if she crossed paths with another cat, she could scare them. She didn't expect to hear the voice of a kitten, though. This was strange, even for her luck.
The younger viony blinked as she gazed up. It was dark enough that she couldn't quite make out which kitten it was, but whoever it was, they were her new favorite. Any baby who could get up that high and maniacally giggle was a kitten after Cynder's own, trouble-making heart.
Blood dripped down onto Cynder's paw in tiny droplets from above, "Nothing I suppose."
She stood in the moonlight, it was hard to tell where she started and where the moonlight ended, but as she emerged further into the shadows Cynder could make out the tiny white ball of fluff above. Her yellow eyes staring down at her, "This tree just seemed like the perfect place to eat a snack. Dontchyah think? You can come up and join me if you want. I just wanted a snack so I guess you could share a bite."
"Aww, look at you, you're puffy and adorable," Cynder commented, trying to ignore the fact that her own grey paws were now damp, something she wasn't necessarily thrilled with. "You aren't one of us, though, so who are you, little one?" She clearly had yet to make the connection that the cat wasn't actually a kitten.
She then found her way leaping into the trees. "Of course, I'll join you. Even just to pat your head because it looks so patable I love it." Cynder herself was not interested in parenting, but she loved gushing over the little cute things. "You're awful small to have been able to hunt already ! You must be pretty proud," she mewed, still not close enough to determine what exactly the other cat was consuming.
"I'm... Buttercupkit!" She squeaked, it was easy to come off as a kit, the tone wasn't all that unnatural as her voice hardly matured, "You know what... Yeah. I am pretty proud of my catch. There was a bit of a struggle, but I mean, what hunt doesn't have a struggle? I think I did a good job. Whoops."
A piece of her prey fell down, a toe of a cats paw that had been pried loose from her playing with it too much. She burst out laughing, "I wasn't going to eat that anyways, upper arm, always better, more meaty."
SHe hadn't been quite level with her when the thing dropped, in fact, she had ended up just under "Buttercupkit." The toe hit her forehead before rolling off her skull and hitting the ground. "Oh, what in the absolute hell," meowed Cynder as soon as she realized what exactly just fell on her. A tendril of dread ran up and down her spine. No, no. Instantly, the she-cat found herself quickly leaving the treeline, her furs puffing.
"I believe you should go..." she meowed, her words sputtering as she really realized that that creature was eating a cat.
"No, make me," Innocentia said, after all she worked hard for this meal, even Cynder was proud of her a moment ago.
She puffed out her cheeks at Cynder's traitorous decision to tell her to leave, but nonetheless turned back to her meal and dug in. Some cats ate frogs, but she didn't gag at their life decisions, sheesh... Still the little white snowball of a cat refused to get down from the tree and Cynder was just lucky that she was far up enough that she didn't hear the disturbing crunching noises she made while eating the feline she had dragged up into the trees.
Cynder fought the urge to vomit. Her stomach swirled and churned, and any breakfast that she might have had was fighting to be on the ground above her. It was then that she scented the air, and things made sense. The tree reeked of Primal Instinct. They're sick, all of them, she found herself thinking, before her tail thrashed through the air.
"You're tresspassing, and you're time in BrookClan territory is over," she meowed, trying to sound less sick than she actually was. It sort of worked, but she still didn't sound as tough as she would have liked. "I would rather not have to fight you, but I will."
"I'm not leaving this tree until I'm done with my meal, it's too heavy for me to just shove out of the tree and drag away. Plus you wouldn't like it if you had to throw your squirrel out of a tree and then drag it back home and eat it. Its innards would be all scrambled and squishy. Now I'm going to finish my meal," Innocentia said as she intentionally munched loudly on her prey.
