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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The first thing he noticed was the sound of his own wheezy, labored breathing, and the soft warmth of the feather-lined moss nest beneath him. The comfort of the bedding was almost enough to lull his body back into sleep, but his mind was now wide awake. Drowsily blinking open his eye, the first thing he noticed was the dim light of sunset filtering into the den from where it slowly sank behind the distant mountains. Only then did it occur to him that he wasn't in his own den; the beech hollow faced the forest, not the mountains. Who's den was he in? With a groan, he lifted his head slightly to take in his surroundings. This was...the warriors' den? Why was he in here? His head was pounding. He couldn't think straight. Instinctively, he moved to stand up.
Bad idea.
A yowl of agony echoed across the camp as Ratstar immediately collapsed back onto the nest, unable to cope with the sharp stab of pain that came from trying to move limbs that had been completely unused for over a moon. Struggling to catch his breath, Ratstar stared down at his paws as faint flashes of memory came back to him:
Pinesimmer assassinating him while he was sick and weak, and being forced to bow before Aspenstar.
Pinesimmer again, this time in the dead of night, slipping him a strange concoction of leaves when nobody was awake or watching.
Then, it was faint glimpses, pictures, of his few short periods of consciousness; Poppymask had been by his side almost constantly, occasionally with their kits, Orchiddrop and Rosethorn, or the girls' kits. At one point, he was woken up by battle cries and thundering pawsteps, but it was too dark to see anything. The last time he had woken up, he thought he'd heard Aspenstar's voice, but couldn't make out what she was saying.
Ratstar had been so absorbed in his own thoughts, that he hadn't even noticed he was hyperventilating. His thin form was shaking violently, tears falling freely from his eye, which stared almost blindly into space. Where were they? What had Aspenstar and Pinesimmer done to them? Where was Poppymask? Sunpetal? Weevilspike? Azaleabloom? Antkit? Cricketkit? Rustlekit? Raccoonkit? What had happened to his FAMILY?! WHERE ARE THEY?!
“Oh. My. God,” Weevilspike said slowly as he poked his head into the warrior’s den, punctuating each word with a disbelieving move of his paw through the air. “The old man’s awake. Everyone’s favourite, loveable Southerner,” he switched to a rapid, deathly serious news announcer voice, holding his paw to his ear like he was getting live intel, “opinion polls indicate ratings higher than ever.” Dropping his paw, he cheerfully wandered in closer, sauntering like this wasn’t the miracle they’d all been waiting for: Ratstar’s recovery. While his sister tended to overreact — or, at least, used to — he tended to under-react, perhaps trying to level the siblings’ playing field by greeting even the most momentous occasions with smiling indifference. He was good enough at it that even now, as he himself knew he was close to tears and had been ever since he’d heard his father’s yowl, a sign of life that he and the Clan had been waiting for for a moon, his heart was still beating lazily and indifferently, like this was any other day.
“Man, you’ve gotten old in your coma,” he continued as he circled lazily around him. “Practically a grandpa. How long has it been? Ten years? I married a nice lady and had seventeen children, Sunpetal went off and became a nun — oh, and now it’s a total apocalyptic wasteland out there since the aliens came.” Finally dropping the act, a big, lazy grin spread across his face, so casual you’d never guess at the breathless relief flooding through him, and he padded forward to bump his head against his father’s. “Hey, dad. ’S’all good. You’re fine, mom’s fine, we’re all fine. NightClan is gone. No need to cry just ‘cause I’ve gotten so handsome in your absence.” Flopping down half-atop him like he was still a kit and not a grown tom larger and heaver than his still-weak, still-injured father, Weevilspike reached out a paw and wiped away his dad’s tears. “Eeww,” he said as he shook the liquid off with a grossed out face, “that always looks cuter when someone else does it.”
Ratstar's head snapped in the direction of Weevilspike's voice as he sauntered into the den; pure, unbridled relief flooding the leader's face seeing that his son was alright. He was still crying, but for a much different reason now. And despite his façade of cool, joking indifference, it was obvious that Bubbie was relieved too. As much as he wanted to immediately run to his oldest son, Ratstar knew better than to try and stand again - fool me once, an' all that - and instead waited with a goofy, ecstatic grin on his face as Weevil began to circle him, raising a incredulous brow at the exaggerated story. "The giveaway was callin' me a grandpaw, ya cheeky bug," he retorted with a snort, his voice rough and raspy from lack of use. He let out a few dry coughs before letting out a laugh as the younger tom flopped on top of him, one that was unexpectedly cut short when it was admitted that Nightclan was...gone? Everyone- everyone was alright?
He glanced up again to see if Weevil was kidding, but there was nothing but complete honestly and joy in his eyes. It was like a weight had lifted off of his shoulders. With all the strength he could muster he suddenly turned halfway over, just enough to wrap his front paws around Weevil's shoulders. "Awww, ya think I'm gross, bubbie?" With a mischievous smirk, his pulled Weevilspike into a bear hug, nuzzling his tear and snot covered face against his son's. "Ya don't wanna cuddle with ya ol' Papi before ya go back t' those seventeen kits o' yours?"
“Uggghhhhhhh,” Weevilspike complained, his voice waving back and forth as his dad jostled him and his forelegs trapped together by the bear hug so that his ankles clacked against each other. It was a very uncool, ungnarly position for him to be in, and he tried his best to roll his eyes, but the happy grin pulling at one corner of his mouth gave him away. Then, finally, like a ragdoll, he suddenly gave up any pretence of fight and flopped back down against his dad, resting his full weight against his side and laying his cheek on the ground so he could look at him with a lazy smile. “As if I’d ever turn that down.”
Slowly, though, the smile faded slightly as worry and faint guilt settled over him. He smooshed his mouth to one side as he looked up at his dad, thinking. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, testing the waters, as gentle as it ever was beneath the layer of deflective humour he couldn’t switch off. “While you were being Mr Lazy Bones and getting out of work, did StarClan… did they happen to mention the change in leadership?”
"Shut up, Weevilspike, some of us are trying to sleep, ya know?"
Raccoonpaw was never where he was supposed to be, which explained why he was napping in the Warrior's den when he was very not a Warrior. He was a skinny, scruffy looking cat, smaller than his father but otherwise a very near mirror image, and thus easy to miss as he'd been little spoon to Ratstar until his father started screaming. Perhaps a favorite hiding place?
Rolling onto his back, the brown-furred apprentice revealed an expanse of honey brown fur and did a big stretch, yes, still on his back. Once he was done with that, he blinked, yawned, and put his paw on top of Ratstar's head.
Ratstar purred contentedly when Weevilspike finally gave in, beginning to groom the unkempt fur of his son like he was a kit again. He paused mid-lick at the question, and let out a huff of a sigh through his nose. "I only saw Starclan once, when Pinesimmer took the shot against me," he admitted, resuming his grooming without a care in the world, as if he wasn't discussing the events surrounding his brutal assassination little over a moon prior. Not that the tabby tom knew that anyway; he had no idea how long he'd been out for. "They said my loosin' a life was...unexpected t' them. Perhaps the entire Nightclan attack was. But I know ya ain't the most religious type, bubbie. I'm guessin' ya have a specific reason fer bringin' it up?" Before Summerclan's prince could answer, annoyed meowing from beside the two of them cut Weevil off, and the Summerclan leader shot his oldest a quick look. "We'll talk 'bout this later."
Shifting over slightly and maneuvering Weevilspike off of his back and onto his side, Ratstar turned his head to take in the sight of his younger son. Literally; Racconpaw had been sleeping on the side of Rat's bad eye, so he hadn't noticed the apprentice curled up against him. He rolled his eye as his one of his youngest seemed to have inherited bubbie's nonchalance before leaning down to nuzzle against Raccoon's fuzzy brown head. "Good t' see ya doin' well, champ. Both o' ya should know by now that your Momma won't take long now that I'm awake; I'll give 'er a solid minute, tops." He glanced almost wearily towards the den's entrance, anticipating how Poppymask was going to fawn and dote obsessively over him. "So we better take advantage o' the calm before the storm, eh?" Raccoonpaw was the next victim of the bear-hug, being hoisted from his comfortable sleeping position and placed snuggly between big brother Weevilspike and their father.
As his dad was distracted both from the grooming that Weevilspike definitely wasn’t enjoying and was just enduring with one eye squeezed shut and an annoyedly tolerant expression on his face, and from the serious talk they needed to have, by his little brother, he lifted his head to glower at Raccoonpaw over Ratstar’s shoulder. “You shut up, baboon,” he replied, reaching over to shove him with his paw, like he’d have no qualms about letting himself, a grown warrior, get drawn into a did not, did too squabble with his baby brother. But his shove was gentle and as deadpan annoyed as the golden boy looked, he was all patient love and dry amusement. So, they’d have the talk later.
When their dad hauled the apprentice between them, Weevilspike groaned melodramatically and flopped down on his side, pretending to be trying to get away. “Daad, why you gotta bring the squirt into it? This was Weevil-Rat time,” he pushed himself up and pulled his little brother down into an annoying, full-body hug, his back against Weevilspike’s chest and his legs sticking out from where the warrior’s forelegs were wrapped around him, the apprentice almost disappearing into his spiky fluff, “not some random raccoon we found in a bin.”
At the entrance of the den, the now-lucid residents would spy a shadow crossing back and forth in front of it. At the sound of her father's screaming, Sunpetal had quite literally dropped everything to rush across camp to him; an assortment of flowers and herbs were now strewn from one side to the other in her wake. It was only once she got close that she halted, and whether that was because every time she saw her dad again she still saw a gaping wound across his throat or because voices were already drifting from the den was unclear. Whatever the reason was, though, it had frozen over her urgency and she could only pace restlessly, her tail a blur of frazzled orange fur.
Meanwhile, another body squeezed out from between Ratstar and Racoonpaw like toothpaste puddling onto a toothbrush. Antpaw, small enough to go unseen, was clearly just waking up despite all the commotion, her yellow-green eyes hooded and her jaws pulling around a yawn, but as she processed exactly what was happening around her, the ruddy she-cat began to... vibrate? It started slow, then progressively got more intense, until everyone in the vicinity was also shaking and there was a crazed shine behind her eyes that turned uncharacteristically slowly towards her dad. "Papi isn't a vegetable anymore," she whispered.
“OH my god, how many cats are in here??” Weevilspike exclaimed, genuinely jumping out of his fur when Antpaw weaselled her way out from the earth like a worm. “Uh — sorry, sis,” he let go of Raccoonpaw was one paw, holding him tighter with the other, and reached out to pet his little sister on the head, “hope you weren’t crushed.” He looked around between their bodies. “Is there literally anyone left in here? Anyone else hiding? Because I will freak the hell out, okay. It’s getting weird. I hate this family.”
Then, looking up, because it always felt like he and his sister were connected by some string of light between their hearts, he saw Sunpetal lurking uncertainly in the entrance to the den. His humour melted away, replaced by the genuinely concerned expression that he’d worn ever since the night of the rebellion. He couldn’t move, crushed beneath his little half-siblings, but he met her eyes and jerked his head softly towards their dad, encouraging her to come in and face her fears and say hello.
He also loved hugs and, much like Weevilspike had done earlier, went full ragdoll as Ratstar tackled him. Family trait, it seemed. He immediately started purring up a storm and didn't so much as blink an eye when Sunpetal stormed in. For once he was happy to be partially deaf - things were about to get very loud. He nuzzled his muzzle on Ratstar's chest and tried to fall back asleep.
~*~
"WHY IS EVERYONE SCREAMING?!" Poppymask screamed as she shoved herself into the Warrior's den. Or, she tried to, her pregnant belly bulging outward so much that she had pinned Sunpetal to the other side of the entryway and gotten the two of them stuck, "What's happening!? Is Ratstar okay!?"
Ignoring Sunpetal, she continue to push herself through the door earnestly until she fully made her way inside, properly ruining all of Sunpetal's flowers in the process. Poppymask's own looked pretty good though and that was what really mattered.
"Papi isn't a vegetable anymore"
Somehow Poppymask heard Antpaw's whisper even though literally no one else knew she was there. Eyes widening and filling with tears, she threw herself at her mate and joined the cuddle pile, "Oh, Ratty! You're awake!! Why didn't anyone come get me sooner!? I would have brought you a crown if I'd been given more warning!!"
"Oi," Weevilspike was met by a light cuff over the head for his sarcastic comment. "Don't call your little siblings freaky, even if I legitimately have no idea where Antkit came from." Grinning from ear to ear at seeing almost all of his children together - a difficult feat; Weevil and Sun weren't really 'kit people' - he turned his attention to his littlest daughter, giving her a few loving licks in-between her ears, completely unaffected by her super-concerning and creepy comment. "Nope, not a vegetable anymore, tiny," Ratstar purred, pulling Antpaw in close with one paw, mirroring Weevilspike and Raccoonpaw.
And...at one minute exactly, give the tom an award, Poppymask came barreling in. Ratstar's eye lit up as soon as he saw her, letting out a jolly laugh as she flung herself onto him and their kits. "Hey, hey, quiet those tears, darlin', I'm okay!" Purring just as loud as a motorbike, he lovingly nuzzled his mate, though hypocritically started tearing up a bit himself seeing just how happy she was. "No need fer crowns right now, I jus' want ya t' stay 'ere with me." Looking over Poppymask's shoulder, he blinked in surprise seeing Sunpetal still standing alone at the entrance, looking...nervous? "What'cha doin' over there, darlin'?" He meowed, concern in his voice. The memory was foggy, but he remembered she had been in the den with him when he was attacked. "Come on now, I don't bite. I'm okay, see? I ain't goin' nowhere."
“Hhhhhuyyhhggh,” Weevilspike sigh-groaned from where he was barely visible beneath the pile of his family members, flattened against the ground by his mother’s added weight. He’d ducked his head and grinned mischievously at his dad when he cuffed his ear, like a grown guy who still let his family treat him like a teenager; now, he could only see the tips of his ears from beyond the crush of bodies. “I’ll just be down here if anyone needs me. Pinch my toes when Sun arrives or if I’m dead by then, just bury me next to her when she goes. Hi, mom. Or is that Antkit. Paw. I can’t tell anymore. Whose foot am I holding. What is this place. I think I’m dying.”
Rustlepaw has just finished grooming his long tail and meticulously braiding flowers into when her heard a scream from across camp... It sounded like his father... Nah it couldn't be. Ratstar had been in a comma for a while now... but then the commotion continued to get louder and louder until the unmistakable sound of his mother's shrill voice rang out. Perhaps it was possible...
He slowly rose to his paws, cautiously approaching until her saw the group bear hug, cuddle pile, whatever you wanted to call that tangled mess of limbs and fur. He took one step backwards, then two "Don't even think about it"
Ratstar's smirk only grew when he saw Rustlepaw, too concerned about his own appearance to come embrace his beloved Papi. Too bad. "Weevil, Coon, Tiny, I might need ya help," he meowed, a playful sparkle in his eye, dragging his oldest out from under the fluff of his mother. "Whoever nabs Rustle an' drags him t' the cuddle pile gets t' be my favorite kid...an' gets special permission from me t' not have'ta do anythin' tomorrow. Go." foxJadiewoofracer
The moment she and her father's eyes connected, everything bottled up inside of Sunpetal welled up, like a dormant volcano about to explode. It took some steady breathing and a glance away before she could lock it back in place, step hesitantly inside the den, and reach out a wan little smile that was not becoming for SummerClan’s crown princess. She didn't move any closer than that, positioned directly behind Rustlepaw, and craned her neck around him to whisper with a mischief she relished, "You won't be able to get away."
Antpaw was easily persuaded and, as such, felt her drowsiness be chased away by frantic desperation- she was going to win. She erupted from the pile with an uppercut to Big Bubbie's jaw and a kick to Raccoonpaw's face, barreling through the den at Rustlepaw.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS FAMILY?” Weevilspike shouted as he was punched under the jaw by his little sister, falling back in slow motion. “Whatever,” he continued as he rubbed his jaw from where he lay on the ground, giving a bitter shrug, his shoulders all hunched and his voice full of jokey resentment so his half-siblings would think he truly was incredibly insecure and miffed about losing the bet, “I didn’t wanna win anyway, I’m already his favourite kid. Send me back to the apprentice’s den and I’ll whoop all your butts like I did the first time round, I’m literally better than all of you.”
He tipped his head back against the den floor, looking up at his sister. “Sun-bear, I need an ally.” He reached out his paws, doing grabby hands. But it was, as ever, more for her than for himself. Underneath all the deadpan jokes, there was the sombreness of trying to help her rejoin the family she’d always been so devoted to but had distanced herself from over the last moon, out of fear or duty or guilt or the belief she needed to grow up, out of coming so close to losing it and shutting herself off to cope, or of feeling she no longer deserved the innocence of it. He didn’t know — struggled to understand his sister nowadays — but his heart broke for her.
If you want to shine like the sun, first you must burn like the sun ~ SunClan High Priestess
6,904 posts
Post by racer on Dec 21, 2021 21:12:07 GMT -5
Rustlepaw let out a startled squeak, taking another step back and right into Sunstar as she whispered in his ear "NO, NO, NO, NO" he replied trying to take off running but it was already was far to late. Sunstar had stepped onto his long brained tail, leaving the apprentice jerked back to the ground as he tried to take off with a loud thump, leaving him quite vulnerable to the onslaught of siblings headed his way
Post by complacentdevil on Dec 25, 2021 22:35:59 GMT -5
Seeing all the commotion at the warrior's den raised Cricketpaw's interest. The dusky black tom found himself in the entrance, looking inside only to find all of his family gathered around the very much now awake Ratstar. His draw dropped a bit at the sight, and he quickly looked around, wondering if this was a dream. Didnt seem like it. "Come on Rustlepaw, move it, you hear him!" he yipped, nudging the other apprentice with his paw, pushing him towards the group.
Raccoonpaw was tempted by Ratstar's offer, but ultimately too lazy to wrestle Rustlepaw into the pile. Somebody else could do it. Yawning, he went to nuzzle his head back into the crook of Ratstar's neck, when Sunpetal rudely kicked him in the face, causing the brown tabby tom to fall backward and hit Poppymask with the back of his head.
~*~
Poppymask bit down on her tongue hard enough that instantly she began to taste blood, then let out a shriek of pain and angel.
"SUNPETAL!" She snarled, scrambling back up to her paws with blood dripping out of her mouth. Her fur was in total disarray and she'd lost her flower crown in the struggle, so the very pregnant queen looked positively rabid, "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME WITH THAT STUNT! Ratstar, honey, do something about her!"
It didn't take long for Poppymask to fall right back into her usual banter with her beloved mate. Already bossing him around, of course.
