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.
Normally Bumblebeepaw kept themselves very busy. They couldn't stand to sit still, the want for movement, for a task, was miserable, and the need for something, anything to do was trying. But there wasn't really much to be done today. The inferiors were out hunting and marking borders or whatever else inferiors did in their miserable work schedules, which meant that most mundane labor had been accounted for. Meanwhile most other apprentices, who were mostly reporters or superiors, were busy socializing -- the superiors probably more genuinely than the reporters. But them, an executioner, what the heck did they do on their break? There was a part of him that was bitterly pleading that some haughty superior would snap at them to come along, to do something for them just so they could say they were doing something. But such a luxury never came, and they were left just miserable, languishing (well, maybe that was all a little over-dramatic, but they were really unhappy) with nothing to do.
Leaning against the cave walls of Nightclan with a bored stare, praying for something to happen, something to do, they watched the goings on in the clan. And it was boring. They were honestly about near their breaking point, about ready to march out of camp and go on a hunt, or strike up a random conversation, or really anything. But some slight, hopeful part of them kept them silent and still, as if they just felt in their bones that something would eventually happen.