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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setting : meadow near the old camp and the pond time : mid morning
As the snow began to melt near the warmer parts near the base of the mountain. The slight warm morning air caused the snow to every so slightly melt. Hawthorncrown found herself out alone far from the busy hustle and bustle of camp. She found the warm morning air to be a welcoming sign. She allowed the sun to warm her slate grey and orange fur as she pushed through tall meadow grasses. Her paws squishing through the soft snow leaving behind a trail of paw prints. Within her golden sunshine sight was the pond a several tail lengths off from her current point. Quickly with speed she made careful calculated movements towards the pond edge. Peering down at the water from the shore. She bent down to lap up a few droplets allowing the chilled icy cold water to coat her tongue. As she was distracted movement in the grassed caused her head to shoot up in alarm.
He wasn’t intending on startling her. He wasn’t intending on even meeting her, instead focused on getting out of dodge. A rogue male, the leader of the group he’d been staying with, had accused him of having an affair with his mate. This was a lie of course but the she-cat had said nothing in his defense, leading him to his currebt predicament. Skidding to a halt and diving into an existing drift of slush snow, his body screaming at him in the cold, he kept his movements still. He could hear voices, muffled but just barely identifiable.
“Where’d he go?” A burly tom snarled at the gray and orange she-cat. “The fox-dung that tried to take my mate, where’d he go? Are you deaf?”
The noise and movement had directed her attention to her left. She narrowed her eyes at the now still grass. She scented the air wondering if it was a rabbit or some other animal that had moved past, but was met the over powering scent of pond water and dry dusty meadow grasses. She only relaxed for a moment before a cat entered the grasses behind her. The voice spooked her momentarily as she spun in her spot to face the intruder. Her ears pinned to her head and her long pelt fluffed our to make her appear bigger. The burly tom was larger than she was, but she was determined.
“You are trespassing on Winterclan land. I am a soldier of Winterclan and you will not speak to me in that manner mange-pelt.” She hissed at the tom. “Now where did who go?”
The rogue sneered, uninterested in the she-cat's high and mighty attitude. She was rubbing him the wrong way; he needed answers and he needed them now. His target was probably half a mile away already. "A black tom! Huge! A brute! Have you seen him?" His frustration was escalating with each moment, his fury threatening to take over his vision with crimson light.
Another feline burst through the trees behind them but this one was no threat to him. "Track his scent."
The feline obeyed, beginning to circle the clearing, tasting the air on his tongue. He could smell something... it was faint... but the other scents of cat – so many of them! – were beginning to overpower the fading trail. He narrowed his eyes and started slowly toward the snow drift.
“I haven’t seen no such tom. Your the only strange cats I’ve seen in the Meadow.” The soldier snapped back her ear pinning against her head. Her tail lashing back and forth. Her temper was beginning to boil as these rogues seemed to disregard her existence.
