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.
Warden of Primal Instinct ♦ High Priest of BrookClan ♦ MedCat of WaterClan
836 posts
Post by Primordialhaze on Feb 3, 2019 1:32:15 GMT -5
Marshpaw yawned as she woke for the night shift. While Sweetpine seemed to be nice enough not to make the novices take this shift often he had to be fare and make sure that took their turn at least once a moon. The small she-cat shook her medium length pelt and blinked the sleep from her eyes as the pink hues of dusk painted the snow covered pines surrounding camp. She padded from the den and wound her way through the rings of camp till she mad it to the prison. Hearthfire nodded to her as she arrived to take his place.
"Been quiet. This bunch is much too weak to start a fuss. But don't worry just around the corner Spottednettle will be guarding the entrance to camp if you need anything." He mewed before batting softly at her ears and walking away for some well deserved rest.
Marshpaw nodded and settled into the warm snow melted seat Hearthfire had just left. This wad going to be a long night.
Paprika-acorn's fur was matted with mud, blood, and tears. He was in a foreign land, nothing like the home he was used too. They'd tended to his wounds when he'd first arrived but a few had busted back open in his time here. Hearing movement above he peaked through, curious who was here now. The tom didn't know any of their names, he'd only been here a few days, but that hasn't stopped him from looking. A familiar face. One he'd seen the day he was captured. "Hello." A grin peaked through, he was a mess and he knew it but what harm could some conversation do with one of the cats that took him captive.
Warden of Primal Instinct ♦ High Priest of BrookClan ♦ MedCat of WaterClan
836 posts
Post by Primordialhaze on Feb 3, 2019 13:08:56 GMT -5
Marshpaw nearly jumped out of her fur as she spun around at the voice. "It was rare for a thrall to be brave enough to start a conversation. Briefly her mind wondered across what Barrenfrost would expect of her and what Leatherstar would do. Bat the tom across the ears and hiss him back into place? Sit on him till he asks for forgiveness? She sighed audibly. She wasn't Barrenfrost or Leatherstar. She was just little Marshpaw. She lowered to a crouch and peered into the pit and at a grinning face. "Hello? Oh it's you. Papacorn or something. Sorry I'm bad with names."
"Paprika-acorn, like the spice." At least that's what his mother had always told him, he wasn't so sure he even knew what the spice was. The thought of his mother made him sad and worried, he feared for what happened to the old she-cat without him there. She wasn't a warrior, had never even raised her paw to so much as swipe at another cat, so he feared where she was and if she was being properly taken care of. Paprika-acorn's eyes showed his sadness and worry, but he still grinned, his voice a teasing tone. "I'm afraid I didn't get the chance to catch yours, sweetheart."
