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.
Seated alongside the freezing waters of the haunted brook, the burble of its movement the only sound in the vicinity, the white she-cat kept crystal eyes focused on the movement of the gray rippling surface. She could hear the whispers from those beyond if she let her mind wander; like mischievous pixies they flew from earshot when she focused. At peace with their tones washing over her, though, she closed her eyes, her thoughts leading back to that fateful day. Everything had been great, better than she had ever known, until it wasn’t. She could remember the way her heart ached as she watched her friend mourn and pull away. She tried to offer solace where she could but her words fell on deaf ears. She couldn’t remember the precise moment when everything changed forever, but one instant nothing could bring her down, not when Tasman was at her side, and the next she was alone. Just like those far away days when she had only just tasted sadness and didn’t know there was another way. That was what hurt the most. She had been given everything she could ever want and the next it was all gone. It made her question her reality. Had any of it been genuine?
Yes. She couldn’t bear the thought that it wasn’t. She’d find herself physically ill if she allowed herself to head down such a dark path. It wasn’t her fault. Neither was Tasman to blame. Everyone mourned differently; only then, on the frozen bank of the stream, did she realized she’d never allowed herself to mourn the loss of a friend she saw every day but couldn’t reach out for. Her eyes closed, allowing a hot tear to escape the rim of her lid.
If she was going to rise to the places that she intended to rise, all of her bridges had to be rebuilt from the very wreckage in which she had left them. This feline was among the first that she wanted to extend an olive branch to, a creature who had tried to be there when the weight of the world crushed her every rib. Tasman hadn't wanted anyone to be there for her in those days, the days of darkness, at least she didn't desire any help except for her siblings. Taikatalvi had been shut out simply because she wasn't an E'Clair. Tasman, in youthful ignorance, had decided that no one but the other E'Clairs knew what it was like to lose everything in the blink of an eye. Everything had changed in that moment. Tasman had been corrupted by loss, but even that, she had been turned away from trusting altogether. After all, it was trust that had led to the death of her mother, her father, her aunts and grandparents. They had trusted that if they supported Kerrigan, they would help to lead the group into a new chapter, one that was better in all ways. Yet, when it happened, when the Tsar that the E'Clair family trusted got the power she wanted, the E'Clairs became a target. When her father challenged her decision to ally themselves with Primal Instinct, he had signed a death warrant, asked for the destruction of two generations. Perhaps, Kerrigan should have destroyed Tasman and her siblings as well; perhaps, it was a grave error that she didn't. But, it was a greater type of revenge that way, not to smudge a family from existence completely, but to do it in the way that the very world crashed around a selected few. The day that her father whispered in her ear that she had to make up for these moments was the day that she swore that family was all that she would ever need. Yet, she was foolish and young in those days; shutting out a support system felt like the best thing to be done.
She let out a breath, before letting her eyes rest on her old friend. Youth had told her that she could do it on her own, but with age and refinement, Tasman had learned that such was not the case. Other things were just as important. Yet, when she looked at the pale body of her old companion, there was a part of her that wanted to run. After all, it was her own doing that made the relationship estranged. Tasman wasn't particularly good at admitting error, and this was a particularly strong one. Part of her wanted to avoid it altogether, but she couldn't. If she never looked the problem in its face, it would never get better. Plus, Taikatalvi was part of this now, a pawn in Tasman's game. She would rise with the rest of them, if only because of those formative years. Even if she was unable to fix the problems, to get her friend back, she wanted to offer the olive branch.
"May I join you?" she meowed, her tone unreadable.
Startled by the sudden presence, she found herself frozen in place like a daft mouse, its survival instincts not registering. Was that...? It couldn’t be. She knew that voice though, even if she hadn’t had it directed toward her since they were small. Her heart seized in her chest, half in hope and half in nerves. She couldn’t predict what was going to happen. She didn’t know Tasman anymore. That thought made her ache deeply. She fluttered her lashes to rid her eyes of their watery gaze and looked over at the she-cat. “Yes, of course.” She tried to keep her tone as formal as she could to match, but there was a waver underneath.
Only four creatures truly knew Tasman anymore. The others in the group knew of her. They understood that she was a threat. Since the tsar had gone missing, she had been moved from a general threat to one of the prime suspects. She wasn't guilty, though. For once, the she-cat's paws were clean, but that seemed to be a hard thing for the others to accept. She wondered to herself how much Talvi took the rumors to heart. Did her old friend think she was a murderer? It wasn't really a question she could ask, not yet.
She considered this, before falling into a seated position. Her fluffy tail wrapped around her paws. She had done the same every time she sat for as long as she could remember, as if trying to hold herself together, but this quirk would have been rather new to the other cat. After all, it was something that developed after the execution, the period of time where she really did have to hold herself together.
"It's been a while," she meowed, "and I apologize for that."
Her eyes quickly took in the stiff posture, the defensive rigidness of her tail and she kept her thoughts to herself. A million questions seemed to bloom inside her head, while a dozen colors swayed in her vision while she watched her. She was surprised to find blue in the mix; did she truly trust the she-cat still? Undoubtedly. She believed her instincts more than her thoughts and both her heart and her gut were singing that Tasman was still the same feline she knew when they were kids. She simply evolved with the time and the pain she underwent. She resolved to make her tone and stance less formal, to better welcome her old friend. “I understand. You went through something awful...” Her eyes clouded over at the memory of the murderous display. “And then had to deal with everyone’s mistrust... I’m sorry.”
She flinched at the implication of what she went through. Talvi had named it without naming it, and it felt wrong to her. It was a reminder of the hole that existed in her essence. She clenched and unclenched her jaw, a moment passing between them. When she was younger, the moments had been comfortable. Even when they were silent, Tasman was never anxious, never upset. The silence had changed in the moons the two had spent apart. Maybe it was only this silence, but it felt like glass shards ripping through her entire being, tearing flesh. Yet, she didn't know how to break the silence. After all, this was her fault. She had created the gap between the two.
Tasman took a breath, before forcing words out of her mouth. "There are two ways to react to tragedy. One may accept the pain and keep their head high, or they can turn away from the world, turn into themselves. I chose the wrong one. I cannot allow myself to blame death on the actions that I took. In the end, I was the one who made the decision to cut ties with anyone who wasn't of the E'Clair name." She shifted her weight. "Nor do you have anything to apologize for."
Taikatalvi lifted her head, surprise evident. Tasman looked uncomfortable and rightly so; she’d unwittingly brought up a reminder of trauma and for that she flinched. That was not her intent. The words that tumbled from the feline’s mouth, though, were beyond understanding. It sounded like in her own way, the tortoiseshell was apologizing for the distance between them. But that was wrong. Talvi could have done anything but allow it to happen but she didn’t. She was at fault for not being a good enough friend. Instead of voicing these thoughts, she chose to step closer, a warm look in her eyes. “We’re here now, together. What’s in the past will stay there. I hope that, with time, you’ll accept me back at your side.”
What did it mean to be here now? When she intended to sweep her friend into something her friend probably didn't want to be swept into? Tasman didn't know. It seemed like many questions like this often went unanswered, the questions that sat in her soul and bore weight but had no solid answer. She stayed quiet again, the calico shifting again. She had never been like this at one point. At one point in her life, little Tasman knew the answer to everything, and if, by chance, there was something that stumped her, she found the answer. In her older age, she had become passively resigned to understand that there were things she didn't understand, couldn't understand. The part of her that had once craved all of the answers no longer did. It was safer to know only what she needed to know, and too often, the questions of her deep personal life were not things she considered that she needed to know.
"I actually came to talk to you about that," she meowed awkwardly. She had been sort of... watching her old friend the last few days, trying to psyche herself up for the big question. It almost felt like a proposal, really. Like she was a shaking groom-to-be asking for his partner's hand. Of course, this wasn't entirely true; this was not a confession of love, although at one point, maybe it could have been. "I want you back at my side. But..." She trailed. "It comes at a cost and a gain..."
She tilted her head at the way the other molly sounded stilted with her words. It automatically put her on edge though she quickly calmed herself. This was Tasman. The tortoiseshell was many things but a backstabber was not one of them. She wouldn’t seek out her trust only to shove it away again, right? “Tasman,” she took another step forward, “even though there was a time we weren’t together, I never stopped caring for you. You don’t have to warn me away. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
