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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Doefreckle limped painfully and unsteadily across the camp, towards the shadows where Vulturemalice lay at the edge of the clearing. Since NightClan had conquered them three nights ago, Doe had hardly spoken to anyone beyond a hateful snarl confided in Sunpetal or Shadedsun, or unspoken, ill-tempered fussing over one or both. He still wasn't convinced that they were unharmed since that night, couldn't escape the nagging fear that he'd missed something and that they'd suddenly collapse. Ordinarily a chatterbox, in the few nights since they'd been stripped of their freedoms Doe had taken to just lurking at the edge of camp, cold-eyed and glaring and disobedient and unhelpful. If a NightClan guard asked him to assist with something, he'd silently turn his glare on them and pointedly raise his paw. Maybe he was less afraid of them because he'd once been one of them; maybe he just hated them more because of it.
Now, joining the deposed medicine cat, he circled around behind him and flopped down waspishly with his stomach against Vulturemalice's back and his dark gaze still on the NightClan warriors talking in the middle of the camp. The way he lay down against the younger tom was like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, despite the fact the only time they'd spoken since their night together had been briefly during the takeover. When Doe was in a foul, withering mood, his smiles replaced by sneers and scorn, anyone he could stand the sight of was his best friend and his partner in derision. "Look at them," he muttered quietly, his lip twitching up slightly. "As much a warrior as a rat is."
Turning his attention to Vulturemalice, he looked at him and asked in a slightly less bitter and more concerned, direct voice, "have you been to Pinesimmer to look at your throat?" He hadn't been to the NightClan medicine cat to have his paw looked at but he'd let it drop off before he submitted to asking the tom for something, no matter how shaky his paw was, no matter how much sleep he was losing because of it, no matter how mind-numbing the pain was, worse than it had been any of the three times it had been broken and re-broken. But Vulturemalice was different - Doe wouldn't allow stubbornness to impact his health, not the way Doe let it derail his own. He looked at the ex-medicine cat with grim, glaring disapproval, like he already knew the answer.
He was still so mad at himself for not being able to do more to help his Clan. The words kept bouncing around in his skull, thinking about how Sunpetal was shut inside of the elders den along with the rest of her family and the families of his deputy and Rosethorn. He couldn't check on them, couldn't help heal his Clanmates, couldn't do anything but collect herbs and lay around, feeling the eyes on his pelt with every movement and having to basically ask permission to leave the camp.
Vulturemalice's eyes had been closed, but he scented Doe before he felt the dappled tom settling down next to him. The touch still sent his heart racing, memories of this night always on the edge of his mind. When he spoke, Vulturemalice opened his eyes wide enough to be slits, glaring at the NightClan warriors mulling around their camp.
"I grabbed what I could and treated myself," he grumbled sullenly, wincing slightly as he rolled onto his back to look at Doefreckle. The red line across his chest was bright against his fur, leaking blood in a few spots where the scabs split. "What about you?"
Doe's face softened and he gazed down at Vulturemalice's wound in concerned dismay. "V, that looks bad," he murmured, voice so quiet. He leaned down and touched his nose gently to it, like he could heal it and take away the younger tom's pain just with the touch. At his question, Doe raised his head and shook it slightly. "It's fine," he replied in that same quiet voice, but the fact that he automatically said it's fine instead of I'm fine betrayed just how utterly the pain of his paw occupied his mind. He was lying. A trace of bitterness seeped into his voice when he added, "I'm not letting one of them treat me."
He leaned his head down to rest his forehead against Vulturemalice's cheek, letting out a tired breath as his eyes slipped shut. If he stayed there for too long he'd fall asleep; he hadn't slept properly for days, between the pain in his paw and the anxiety about SummerClan, and the comfort of just having someone like Vulturemalice close was enough to let his guard slip down and the first bit of fog drift behind his eyes.
Breathing in Doe's scent, Vulturemalice let some of his fear show, a shuddering breath leaving him. "I was so scared for everyone," he breathed, eyes squeezing shut. "It was only me left in camp, I had to do something for my Clan." Once the leader and deputy were gone, everything was on a medicine cats shoulders. "I couldn't sit by and do nothing while that dungpile of a she-cat came into my home and threatened those that I loved, and look what it got me." A hot tear leaked out of the corner of his eye, like the small traces of blood still leaking out of his wound.
"I would have happily died for you all, but I wish I would have done more. Fought maybe, done something besides stand there and use useless words," he confessed with a small shake of his head, rolling onto his side with a wince to face the dapple tom. He let one of his long legs drap over the smaller cat, mimicking motions from a time before. He knew he couldn't show him much affection, but he needed this comfort from his only love. "I'm scared for Sunpetal and Weevilspike and all of them."
When Vulturemalice began to speak, his voice so pained, Doe drew back, blinking and watching him with worried eyes and soft brows. As the former medicine cat rolled over, Doe leaned back slightly only because he thought the other tom would want more space to lie down; when his leg draped over him and he realised he wanted comfort, he shifted back closer than before and drew his tail around to brush the tip against his flank in gentle, rhythmic motions. "Scared for Sunpetal?" he purred, trying to catch Vulturemalice's gaze and force lightness into his voice. He smiled, though his eyes were still dull and concerned. "I'm more scared for Stormstar."
His head tilted slightly as he looked down at the younger tom; he moved his broken paw, wanting to stroke soothingly back and forth behind Vulturemalice's ear and along his cheek as he spoke, like someone comforting a child, but the pain was too much and he just let it rest against his shoulder. "Sweetheart, you did what you could. You're not a trained fighter. If you'd tried, all we'd have is our medicine cat gone. Losing you would have been a blow we couldn't have come back from." He leaned down to rasp his tongue along Vulturemalice's cheek. "Actually," he purred, drawing back slightly a second later with a warm smile on his face, "maybe with those gangly legs of yours no one would have been able to touch you. It is a shame we didn't let you loose."
His smile softened a moment later but didn't fade; instead he just tilted his head again, looking down at him. In a calmer, more certain voice, like he was willing to wait a hundred years for what he was sure would come, he added, "They'll be fine. SummerClan will be fine. NightClan can't stay here forever. Our time will come again."
Part of his was ecstatic that Doe had accepted the embrace, letting them relive that one night for a moment. That night would forever be a part of him. Vulturemalice knew that Doe was aware of his strong feelings, and he was glad for him in his moment. He needed comfort, the touch of someone. Sunpetal was locked away with all the other cats he cared for, including Greythorn in the elders den. Until the NghtClan takeover, the brown and white tom didn't realize how much he craved the feeling of his pelt against someone that he loved.
"If Sunpetal doesn't take over this Clan," he sighed, relishing the embrace with a small smile, "I don't know what else would happen. NightClan should be terrified when they let that beast released." As Doe continued on about what Vulture had faced and tried to help his Clan, he couldn't help the shame that washed over him. Even now, he felt like he could have done more. Tried to attack, stall, or something. Yet he knew in every scenario, he would have been in the same position he was now in. Maybe with those gangly legs, Vulturemalice rolled his eyes, unable to hide the wide smile that split his face.
He turned his face, wanting to make a sultry remark about his legs when the dappled tom continued on. As Doe reassured him about the fate of SummerClan, Vulturemalice held on to that. "I hope so," he breathed out, words ended with a slight, choking sob. "I never had a family until here, I can't let it be destroyed."
Doefreckle smiled, leaning down to rest his cheek against Vulturemalice's as the younger tom continued, listening quietly. He felt rather than saw the grin spread across the former medicine cat's face and flicked his eyes down to look at him, mirroring his grin. But as his voice grew soft and choked up, his smile faded into a tender, worried frown. "Me, neither," he whispered, drawing back just a little to look down at him. Closing his eyes, he touched their nose bridges together, Vulturemalice's angular and long and his own soft and rounded. "SummerClan gave me something when I had nothing. We won't lose it, little one." It was a strange term of endearment, given the size difference between them, but where their hearts were concerned it was the truth. He cared for the brown and white tom and he wanted more than anything to protect him, to see him happy and safe. "And you'll never lose me." The last words were no more than a breath. He smiled against his nose and drew back to look at him, pupils big and black in the darkness. "Not before we've dug up that bat skeleton and you've regaled me with all the-the," he swirled his good paw in the air as he searched for the word, "the ligaments and fancy little bones and I've tried very hard not to throw up." He grinned, but his eyes were still tender.
Lowering himself back down to the ground, he slipped his good foreleg under Vulturemalice's head so he could be close to him more comfortably. "Hi," he purred jokingly at their sudden closeness, blinking at him, the other tom's whiskers tickling his eyes and his coarse fur no more than a mousey blur. Looking down at his broken paw still resting on Vulturemalice's shoulder, his gaze grew more fretful and, trying and failing to flex it with a little wince and quiet exhale of breath, he finally asked in a quiet voice that made Doe sound very vulnerable and very young, "do you know any way to help a busted paw without herbs? I don't... Usually I'd leave it but it was just starting to get better and I..." There was real dread in his eyes now, a sort of quiet, wet terror that spoke of all the things Doe would never say aloud. "I don't want to lose it," he finished in a frightened, shaky whisper, the words almost tearful. He didn't look at Vulturemalice, was too humiliated to; he'd never told anyone how afraid he actually was - how afraid he'd always been - about the reality of his paw.
