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.
The tiny deadly outsider was tangled up in a briar of thorns. If cats didn't know better they'd think she was a kitten, but DayClan had been terrorized by her long enough to know who she was. Innocentia was a white kitten sized league cat with a big pink bow tied around her neck and had a reputation for eating cats. It was almost too ironic that she was caught considering she usually made traps for DayClan cats to get stuck in. Now the tides had turned on her.
"Can someone help me!" She squeaked, her voice didn't sound fully matured despite being a grown cat despite what appearances would seem.
"Why would I want to do that?" Fia stood a few paces away, watching the League feline as she struggled and amking absolutely no move to help. Of all the DayClan cats to meet, the Bright Brigade she-cat was by far the most dangerous. Well, second most dangerous really, but Wanderingwight hadn't been around in a while, so that was just a technicality at the moment.
Her yellow eyes burned brightly at the sound of someone approaching, but winced at their line of questioning.
"Uh... Because death by starvation or being picked apart by hawks isn't a fitting death for me?" Innocentia smiled hopefully.
This wasn't the death she would have wanted especially because it was her fault she was caught in it. There was so much she had left to do, she'd be damned if this was how she was going to go out. But there was little someone with her stature could do. Her muzzle was bloody from her attempts at biting her way out, by the thorns kept piercing her and for a couple of hours the thorns or the blood loss had left her feeling dizzy.
