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.
"An' that there!" Glamourdeath declared, waving his paws frantically around a slightly oversized rabbit skull, the rest of its body nowhere to be found. "That there proves it I tell ya'. Now if I hear one more of yer' good for nothin' parents say a damn word about the fact there weren't rabbit-folk walkin' around in these here parts in my day, you can go and tell 'em they can come'ere an see it 'fer themselves!"
It was hard to tell who he was talking to, he was standing outside the nursery but no kits were really about. It was presumable Glamourdeath just figured they would be able to hear him from where he sat, but how they'd have been able to see it is really beyond even me, the narrator.
The ground in front of the nursery wasn't really empty, because Hoarsehoof was sitting there, listening intently, dutifully, and even curiously — yes, even curiously, dear reader — to Glamourdeath's story. He nodded, frowning seriously, committing it all to memory for the day the rabbit-folk came back. Of course, dear reader, Hoarsehoof was ten times the size of Glamourdeath — truly, he towered over him — and he looked quite funny when he sat down, because his legs went to all strange angles — but, of course, being a cat, that was just something cats did. They sat. On mats and other assorted things. Sometimes even, as Hoarsehoof was doing now, on the ground.
"Thank you for telling me," he told him earnestly — but it didn't sound like that. It sounded more like "I-Ih'm a horse!", said in series of bellowing neighs as he tossed his head from side to side. "I'm a horse, gi-ihve me a carrot!" He towered over Glamourdeath, sitting there, saying these incredible things — like it was nothing. Like it was nothing at all. Isn't that unbelievable.
