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.
And from this point on, Doefreckle will be known as an enemy of SummerClan.
Sunstar's eyes blazed as she overlooked her clan. Still high on their victory, their pelts warmer than they'd been in moons and their future suddenly revived, when they'd all gathered beneath the High Hill for this meeting, there'd been nothing but warm, glowing satisfaction looking back at her. It was swiftly vaporized, replaced by shock and confusion, some with outrage and others with disgust. Some time later, when she was alone in the misty dusk of her den, the memory of how she'd shattered that fleeting, precious peace in her clan would bring silent, silver tears down her cheeks, the buzzing gnats the only onlookers to her anguished sobs. She would cry for them, she would cry for their pain, but mostly she would cry for herself. Doefreckle was her friend- or so she had thought- and his betrayal cut a million wounds through her soul, deep and gaping chasms daring to rip her right in half.
But in this moment, with all eyes on her and Doefreckle standing before her, realization dawning on him, her turmoil was cast aside. She wouldn't allow herself to appear anything other than completely certain.
"That will be all." Sunstar didn't give an opportunity for anyone to speak up, raising her tail to signify the meeting was over. She sauntered down and went to turn into her den, but stopped and turned to Doefreckle. "Doefreckle," her voice lost the authoritative tone, adopting one flush with pain-fueled hatred, "enjoy your last meal as a SummerClan warrior. I will have someone escort you off at sundown."
It was only then that she slunk away, almost collapsing right as she entered the privacy of her den. She was grateful she didn't when she heard the footfalls follow her inside.
During Sunpetal’s first ceremony as self-appointed leader, he’d sat tall and proud, smiling beside Shadedsun. He had been freed from the shackles of his yearning for NightClan; Pinesimmer would be out of his life and out of reach, unable to reveal anything; he was safe, his secret was safe, his home was free and he’d done his part to help it; any past aching or confusion about where he belonged, about his place here now that his leadership was becoming a distant memory, they were gone. He was truly and utterly SummerClan. The sun was shining. Everything was alright. His heart felt lighter, warmer, freer than it had in… In ever. All his life, he had never felt as happy as he felt in that moment, with the pale morning sun rising behind Sunpetal and chasing away the chill of the night. The sound of the birds, the familiar smell of the camp and the unfamiliar smells of autumn — he’d never experienced an autumn in SummerClan and he was excited to, excited to throw himself into this new life with all his heart and experience everything, to resign himself happily to living in the footnotes of SummerClan and just supporting Sunpetal; everything was good. Everything would be alright.
And then his happiness plummeted.
There’s one more thing I need to announce today. Doefreckle, please—
His heart had stopped. His chest had gone still, breath caught midway down his throat. His smile had fallen, chased away by fear he’d thought had been laid to rest, that he was free of. And then Aspenstar had arrived and he’d hardly cared — he’d just been frantic, half-standing up and physically restraining himself from slipping up beside Sunpetal and asking so quietly, so submissively, so faux-cheerfully, ’back to me for a second… About what you were going to say… I’m not in trouble, am I? Instead, his heart had just pounded as the two leaders had their stand-off, hoping that maybe Sunpetal would forget whatever she had been about to say but knowing that that wouldn’t happen. The hopelessness, the helplessness, the fear, the frenzied guilt — they crowded him, pressed in on him like gritty, roiling shadows.
And then, of course, it all just came crashing down.
And from this point on, Doefreckle will be known as an enemy of SummerClan.
He’d stood there beneath her, mouth hanging open slightly in disbelieving horror, eyes wide and so softly, brokenly grief-stricken. All the cries from his Clan, the protests from Shadedsun, the confused laughter from Weevilspike, like he was trying to alleviate the tension his sister had caused — he hardly heard them. There was just him looking up at Sunpetal and her cold, hateful eyes staring back.
For the first time, his self-destructing couldn’t be laughed off. For the first time, it had true victims, a body count. For the first time, no one could say oh, Doefreckle, isn’t he charismatic when he falls apart and ruins his life; who doesn’t love a lost cause. He’d felt the hourglass of his youthful indiscretions running out and now the last of the sand trickled through. He’d never had to face and answer for his actions before, never been held accountable for them. He’d suffered for them before, yes - but at the same time, he truly hadn’t. Shaded had forgiven him; Hywel had let him off with the wounded cruelty of a death wish; the misery of Lilydawn’s life because of the selfish whims of his younger self was repairing itself — and in every case, blameless Doefreckle slunk out of the line of culpability with sorrowful eyes and a way of apologising that made the other party feel ashamed of ever having doubted him. As much as guilt ate him alive every moment of his life, he’d so far avoided actually being cornered and forced to repent, to stare down his choices, to submit to ruination. To face the consequences. Even a two-year death he came away from unscathed, with bruises that healed and eyes as pretty as ever.
This time he could feel it was different. For the first time in his whole life, he was gazing up at someone who wasn’t going to bend to his apologies. Now, he was going to have to pay for all he’d done. For what he’d done to her, her father, her family, his Clan.
Life ground to a stop. It wasn’t fun anymore; it was utterly serious.
When she jumped down and stalked off to her den, Doefreckle followed in a frantic rush, limping as quickly as he was able. “Sunpetal,” he pleaded immediately, as soon as he breached the beech den that had once been his own, trying to keep his voice as light, as steady as he could. She was turned away from him; he took a few beseeching steps closer. “Please don’t do this. You know me — I’m not… I’m not your enemy. I made a mistake, I know that — a terrible, terrible mistake.” He tried a messy little laugh, the corner of his mouth upturned in a desperate attempt at peace-making and his brows pushed up and together. He’d never faced any situation he couldn’t charm or smile or manipulate his way out of before; he didn’t know what to do, kept alternating frantically, blindly, between different approaches that might work on Sunpetal — that didn’t work. He was terrified; she was the first person he’d ever met in his life that he wasn’t certain he could win over. He was floundering. Doe took another hesitant step closer to her — and then, swallowing all that pride that never mattered when he was in trouble, and realising he was taller than her, he lowered himself to his belly in an utterly subservient bow. He looked up at her with big, pathetic brown eyes. “Please, Sunpetal.” His voice broke, becoming choked up; it was just as much completely, heartbreakingly true and honest as it was an act. He was losing everything. Everything he’d ever wanted. Everything he’d only just realised gave him all the love, all the joy, he’d been searching all his life for. Tears brimmed in his eyes; his voice shook, thick with emotion. “SummerClan is all I have.”
Sunpetal. Oh, of course, if anyone were to follow behind, it had to be him. She should have known from the sound- the only other cat in SummerClan with that hobbled gait wasn't here- but the blood was roaring in her ears, drowning out everything around her.
When she turned to face him, the coward pathetically pasting himself to the ground at her paws, pleading for a forgiveness he didn't deserve and she wouldn't give, it was with deliberate, wretched slowness. Every motion, every cutting glare, was precise, like a surgeon's first cut through flesh, and Doefreckle's groveling only validated it. He was reacting exactly how she wanted- needed- him to. He shuffled closer to her- perhaps to get close enough, he might kiss her paws and act shocked when they struck out and ruined his treacherous face- and she stepped back, maintaining distance between them.Please, Sunpetal. "Sunstar," she corrected.
She loomed over him. It was the first time in her life she could loom over anyone, and it was intoxicating. Sunstar's tail lashed and her claws worried the earth, creating divets that wouldn't disappear for several days, and her newfound predisposition towards violence begged her to relent. He deserves it. He should suffer the same way your father did, one long cut across his throat. Just say it's a- "Mistake?" The scoff echoed bitter astonishment. "It was a mistake? So when I came to you, crying, to tell you how he murdered my father in cold blood, you mistakenly found yourself in his den? You accidentally fell into bed together? It was just a whoopsie when his-" She abruptly stopped herself, reigning in her control and lowering her voice. Outside, cats were beginning to gather around, attracted to the enraged voices like maggots to rotted flesh.
"You had a chance to come clean and be honest with me," Sunstar whispered- and there was that hollow, broken emptiness of a child who'd lost her best friend painfully evident in her voice. It cracked but she swallowed the tears. "I came to you. I trusted you. And not only did you throw that back in my face by getting in bed with my father- your leader's- killer, you couldn't even tell me, your supposed friend. The Doefreckle I thought I knew would have had the courtesy to at least be brave enough, kind enough, to tell me to my face. But this Doefreckle, the real Doefreckle, yes, he is an enemy of mine. I have no place for someone like him in my clan."
On impulse she leaned down, settled her stomach onto the rapidly cooling earth, and met his gaze at eye level. Despite how this tormented her, there was no uncertainty in her gaze, no room for second thoughts or reconciliation. There wasn't much of anything within it; only Doefreckle's own broken misery would look back at him. "I hope this is all you have. I do. I hope it is because taking it away from you will be my greatest pleasure. SummerClan is not your home. I am not your friend. You are alone now- but I'm sure you'll find someone else's nest to crawl into. You always do."
The second she turned to him, looking down at him with such terrible, savage coldness that he felt his eartips blackening with frostbite, he knew he was damned. But he stayed where he was, even though he knew she was mocking him prostrated on the ground before her, even though he knew it was doing nothing to save him, because his bones felt too heavy to help him stand. She could have torn him apart in that moment and he wouldn’t have, couldn’t have, fought back. So, he just stared up at her forlornly, silently, his eyes so miserable and the cold of the den floor seeping into his body. “Sunstar,” he echoed in a whisper when she corrected him.
I came to you. I trusted you. He almost flinched. The shame of it, the guilt, the grief — they threatened to drown him. It was easier to think she was just a leader brandishing her newfound power; to think she was a friend, a friend he’d betrayed, made his heart ache unbearably. He’d never had a friend who would care this much before — and he’d thrown it away, mortally wounded her, for what? A meaningless lay because he was broken and confused? It was a pathetic excuse. His gut roiled with the stupidity, the horror, the arrogance of what he’d done. It was just a whoopsie when his— Doe clenched his jaw and dropped his eyes, swallowing thickly. That familiar squirm of embarrassment and shame that his father had instilled in him for having such an effeminate son who got off to such disgusting things, that he’d only just begun to think himself free of after moons of healing, that he still felt every time he was with a tom because the defiant glee he threw himself into it with was really just an adversary to all that ugliness, reared its head again. His chin tucked into his throat, eyes darting across the den floor. But he didn’t blame Sunpetal — Sunstar; didn’t defend himself. He deserved it. He’d always deserved it— no, he wasn’t thinking like that again.
When he became aware of the audience eavesdropping outside, he glanced over his shoulder, torn between hope that maybe it would change Sunstar’s mind and humiliation at having this become even more public, and swallowed before turning back to her, pelt prickling with self-conscious misery. As she continued her attack, he could only listen, his head occasionally jerking back slightly in a flinch — because she was right. The guilt of it, the grief, burned through him. He’d betrayed her. The trust of one who might have become his greatest friend, the only one who saw some sort of strength in him. He was alone — and the worst thing was that he hadn’t needed to be. He had it.
When she lay down in front of him, Doefreckle still didn’t move, even though he knew these would be the words that would hurt the most. He just stayed where he was, neck curved slightly in an elegant arch to meet her eyes — hers so icily final, his ruined and pleading. And he was right: every word cut through him like a knife. The last words were the most shameful of all and at them he did wince, finally breaking enough for his lip to twitch back into a little, silent grimacing sob, his back teeth just showing. Because beneath all the frantic panic and the desperation, the thoughts of self-preservation at the back of his mind, so quiet, had started thinking ’which tom can I go to now? Someone will take me in.’ And the worst part of all was that Pinesimmer had flashed into his mind. Now, her words felt like they’d gutted him, because they cut through to all the horrible truth, the shame, the things he’d thought were just secret thoughts but that had been ripped out and put on full display in front of him.
“Sunstar,” he begged tearfully, trying so desperately not to let his voice fill with tears as they both lay there facing each other. He was going to plead again, was going to say I have nowhere to go; I won’t survive by myself — but her name sparked a last, nasty, desperate hope. Swallowing the sobs down and steading his voice to something slightly more confrontational and in control, he raised his head a little and told her, with a smear of condescending disrespect, “you haven’t been ordained by StarClan, Sunpetal — you have no power to do this.” He didn’t believe it at all - God knows he had no respect for StarClan - but he was desperate, pulling out the last bargaining card he might have: a threat. He leaned in closer. “You’re just a princess who took your daddy’s crown. Our Clan — yes,” he hissed, with a feral, slit-eyed sort of poison, “our Clan won’t forgive you. How long do you think they’ll follow a little power-hungry upstart when you exile poor, defenceless me — a former leader?”
Maybe he knew this wouldn’t work. Maybe it was just easier to sever the last ties of friendship and throw them upon the pyre so he could hold his chin up and leave her behind without guilt. Maybe planting that little seed of doubt would be enough revenge to quiet the grief of losing everything — of losing the friend he loved. Maybe hating her would make bearing the knowledge that she hated him less agonising, less wont to gnaw and eat him alive in the dark. His eyes bore into hers, head lowered venomously, just as hateful as her own now that the soft, sweet Doefreckle facade had been tucked safely away like a costume change.
Likewise, this would destroy her in more ways than she could count. Doefreckle, over the last few moons, had become one of her most treasured friends- it was a bond she valued, loved, because friends had never been easy for Sunstar to come by. She was antagonistic towards cats outside of her family, and those that endured her vitriol were immediately folded into her inner circle, having seen the real her, the side of herself that shivered in the shadows of the powerful cat she presented. It was her greatest gift she could give anyone: Herself.
And Doefreckle had taken that gift and torn it apart, methodically sheared away the wrapping paper and tape and disassembled the box, marveled at the contents, and then smashed it without thought. He'd taken her kindness, her trust, and squandered it.
Following this, for several moons to come, the leaps and bounds the blossoming Sunpetal had made towards bettering herself would come to a grinding halt, as every time she looked into another's eyes and tried to gauge the extents of their honesty, she would be haunted by this betrayal. Whatever color was in their gaze would melt away and turn bitter and black, the color of a coffee that's too dark and strong, and she'd be waiting for the charade to crumble, to hear their true thoughts needling out from underneath. Their lips might upturn, but rather than a smile, she'd see Doefreckle's derisive smirk, the condescension in his cheeks. She wouldn't allow this to happen again.
Her resolve didn't waver. She didn't fold to Doefreckle's sudden onslaught. He could have been right- hell, maybe he was- but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a victory, only staring unblinkingly back as he positioned himself taller than her. "You're right," she allowed, but only just, "StarClan hasn't ordained me yet. But SummerClan did. And weren't you the one that encouraged them to?"
She didn't give him time to answer, letting the distant chants of Sunstar, Sunstar! led by Doefreckle himself form between them, before plunging into her next qssault. "It isn't our clan anymore- that's on you. No one here thinks you're helpless and we aren't stupid enough to believe former leaders are above treason." Noting his alarm, the fractional widening of his eyes, she leveled her next words closer to his heart, as pointed as a sharpened knife pressed to his skin. "That's the crime you're marked with. A former SummerClan leader should know better than to think his actions are going unnoticed, even if he's just going out for moss." Yes, Sunstar's eyes seemed to say, the knife slowly sliding through his ribs, I know about your foray with Stormstar too. What other lies do you have to spin?
Doefreckle's first reaction was fear, guilt, terrible, helpless, kit-like regret - and so he forced it away. "Oh, so what, Sunpetal?" he snapped back disinterestedly to hide how much the words had rattled him, breaking eye contact and pushing himself to his paws to sweep around away from her. He still refused to use her leader name. Half-turning, his hateful gaze found hers again. "At least someone WANTS to be with me - the way things are going, sweetheart, the only way you’ll get someone in your nest is by an arranged marriage." A laugh bubbled over the words, his brows pushing together and up like he truly felt sorry for her, turning them into something so shameful and embarrassing. "You're pretty," he reassured her patronisingly, with a few little nods, really trying to hurt her now, "it's just a shame about the personality." Clicking his tongue, he turned away again - and it was only when his gaze broke from hers that all the grief of losing his closest friend in SummerClan flooded back into it like stormwater; safe from her scrutiny, the doubt at being able to look after himself, the deep, aching sorrow, the fear, the softness that was the true Doefreckle - they all consumed him. Stop, they begged him. Just stop. Please.
But they were gone as soon as he looked at her again, standing by the entrance to the beech den. "I’ve said I’m sorry," he finished. "I loved you — but if you want to push me away, then fine. Well, Sunpetal, good luck. Enjoy your lonely, spinster life at the head of a Clan who'll only ever see you as Ratstar's insufferable daughter. I'm sure you're all destined for wonderful things." Sweeping down into a mocking bow, his eyes downcast and his broken paw held to his chest in deepest respect, he rose with a curled lip and, with a last, lingering stare straight into Sunstar's eyes, turned and limped out of the den.
Weevilspike was heading for his sister's den at the same time Doe was leaving it; the calico tom shoved past him without a look, not legitimising this bastard royal line with any cloying graces or respect. Weevilspike hovered at the entrance to the beech den, watching as the exile stopped to touch his nose to Shadedsun's and murmur a few words he couldn't make out. Finally, with a last embrace that lasted long enough to be heartbreaking, Doe's face buried in Shadedsun's neck fur, he finally shook his head, offered a weak, reassuring smile, looked around the camp one last time, and slipped out through the entrance tunnel, leaving his home and his family behind.
The camp was hushed in Doefreckle's wake, afraid to speak or uncertain of what to say. Cats stood around like they were lost, just standing there gazing after the exiled tom as the flowers of the tunnel slowly stopped bobbing. Finally, to break the spell of tension caused by his sister, Weevilspike turned cheerfully back to the den entrance and slipped inside with a big smile on his face. "Well, that went weeell," he congratulated her sarcastically, warm but slightly wary and reprimanding all the same. It felt strange, to be back in this den after having spent his whole kithood here - and now, his sister was standing where their father once had. "Nothing like a good banishment to kick off the festivities of your reign, huh?"
"I loved you too." She said despondently, and wasn't that where the real pain was? Love was always a foreign concept for the young leader, reserved for family and only the closest of friends, and here was that same love being weaponized to cut her apart. She felt fixated to the spot, like her limbs were sawed off and laid next to her in the most natural way you could assemble detached limbs, and remained there while Doefreckle stood over her, heartlessly landing blow after blow after blow. She was certain he wouldn't stop until the gaping hole in her chest had widened enough for him to pull her heart right out, but then he was turning to go, and finally Sunstar clambered to her paws.
Surprisingly swift, she swept around the den until she was between him and the camp, forcing herself to meet the curdled hatred in his eyes without her own impenetrable gaze. "I loved you," she said again, the emotion in them so thick she had to choke them out, "SummerClan loved you. My father loved you. For StarClan's sake, Doefreckle, I watched my brother love you. Everyone I've ever watched love you, all you've managed to do is hurt and alienate us. You aren't a victim here- I won't let you be! I'm not th-thi-this monster you're building me up to be. I'm not some power-hungry villain flexing my new powers for everyone to set some example for everyone, but I'm not my father and I'm not just his insufferable daughter." It didn't matter if she believed she was or if the clan believed it too, she wouldn't show that to him. "My father turned his blind eye to everything you've ever said about him, despite how insufferable you've been and how you hate him, despite how you've done absolutely nothing of value since you came back to life, despite that you repaid his every kindness by betraying his clan for- for what? It wasn't even for love. You did it because you. wanted. to." With every brutal punctuation, Sunstar's voice growing louder and twisting with disgust, looking at him like she might a squashed bug on the bottom of her paw or, worse, like someone who'd slept with her father's murderer, she stepped closer to him, lips curled over her back teeth and a growl in her throat. "No one else ever matters when they come between Doefreckle and what he wants, right? I guess I should move then, or I'll just be another casualty you'll step over. Get out of my clan, Doefreckle, and don't ever come back."
Sunstar jerked out of the way and snarled as he brushed past, body tense and coiled up, prepared to push back if he tried to shove her. He didn't, and she watched him from the threshold of her fa- her den she reminded herself, clamping down on the long-standing instinct to refer to it as her father's- her smoldering eyes never moving away, even as Doefreckle's cursory glance passed over her, even as Shadedsun's grief-filled look followed, even as the clan one by one turned away from the shaking blooms, a muted, beseeching wonder on their faces.
She turned back into the den just as Weevilspike slipped in after her, cheerful as always. He was someone she could always lean on when things were tough, but right now, hearing the forced cheer in his voice coupled by reproach, it was the last thing she needed. Sunstar instantly deflated, the heat melting from her voice, her shoulders going slack, tail drooping into the disturbed dirt. "If you're here to criticize me too, save it. Tell me tomorrow or the next day or something that isn't today but just... not tonight." Her eyes squeezed shut and a paw rubbing small, slow circles against her temple in the same way their mother did when they were young and frustrated, and when she uttered the pitiful Please it was heartbreakingly forlorn.
She didn't need a critic or a voice of reason. She needed her brother, someone who could love her right now while she struggled to love herself, Doefreckle's calculated insults chipping away at her strength.
“When have I ever criticised you?” Weevilspike replied, and it was gentle. He padded over to his sister and sat down beside her, draping the underside of his throat across her shoulders so his chin rested beside her cheek on the opposite side to the one he was sitting on. There’d been a time when they were the same size, but it was long since gone; now, Weevilspike was like an oversized sheep dog who still thought he was a lapdog. He smiled at her out of the corner of his eye, his cheek all smooshed up by her fur and his sister so close she was only a vague blur of soft orange and white, grown gaunter in the last moons.
“Sun,” he continued after a moment, and his voice was as serious as it ever was, warm and quiet and concerned. Shifting slightly, he reached out his paw and drew up one of hers, holding it gently between his own. “You know how wonderful I think you are. But I’m worried. We haven’t properly talked since that night, but you killed someone, Sun. And Stormreign — sorry, we don’t speak that name.” He grinned lightly, crookedly, trying to get a smile from her. When he didn’t, he continued, “you had to do it — it was the right thing. But that doesn’t just go away. And now you’re leader without any preparation — and playing royals with me when we were little doesn’t count, and neither does having Rosethorn here. I’m not criticising you — if exiling Doefreckle was the right thing to do, then I support you a thousand million percent. But all I want is for my sister to stop carrying the weight of the whole world by herself and talk to me. Her favourite brother. Hopefully.” He nodded to the side. “If not, I can totally murder the others.” He grinned, letting out an exhale of laughter and tilting his head with that golden, beachy charm of his. It was perhaps an ill-timed joke given the circumstances, but Weevilspike never had much interest in letting unfortunate circumstances put off his humour.
Secretly, though, the concern didn’t lessen for a second. He was close to their dad, but he’d never had the special relationship Sunstar had with him. He hadn’t mentioned that in his deluge of worries, but it was one of the greatest — to be forced to usurp him for the good of the Clan, when she was young and untrained, and now looking so small and out of place in the den that had been their childhood home. A part of him wondered what would happen if their father woke up and asked for his position back, if his sister would back down and happily give him back his crown, or if she would struggle to give up this newfound burden, taken up in desperation and consecrated in blood. He’d always been able to feel Sunstar’s feelings like they were his own, to look her in the eye and communicate without speaking, to share thoughts like they were one soul; but now, in these past weeks, with her drawing away from everyone, all he could feel was a confused jumble of guilt and fear and uncertainty.
“So,” he pulled her paw up and held it to his cheek, giving her puppy eyes, “wanna talk? Or wanna keep it all in and explode all queen-like? Up to you, Sunny.”
