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.
Larkclaw. The name still sounded so strange to him. It was still hard for the former rogue not to refer to himself as Lafayette or Fayette, the name slipping out more than the one his father had so graciously bestowed upon him. Memories of his past littered his dreams and memories. Sometimes, they were all he could think about. The training he received from his grandfather, who was unknown to him at the time, was singed into his brain. The things he had to do for Cicero, the lives he claimed for him, the scars he placed, the families he broke....
Large golden eyes blinked sleep away as his robust and scarred body rose into a stretch. He looked around the warriors den for a moment. Anyone who wasn’t sleeping right now was out on a patrol or guarding the camp. Larkclaw, Lafayette, whichever he calls himself- the tom decided the best thing he could do for himself was go for a nice midnight stroll. He did it frequently in the old SpringClan territory and many of the others Cicero had claimed during his lifetime with the old tom. It soothed him, helped him get things out of his mind, and allowed him to sing as he pleased.
His large brown mottled body blended in with the dark surroundings, letting him slink out of camp undetected- or so he thought, at least.
Originally born in Nightclan and then later raised in Dayclan. The tom never had a normal sleep schedule. Some days he was awake during the day and other days he was awake at night. Today was one of the few days he was wide awake at night. He left the warrior's den and snuck quietly past the nursery hoping to escape from the normally watchful eyes of his four sons. He slipped out of camp and padded down the worn forest path that led up to the camp. Several paces in front of him was Larkclaw. The senior warrior knew of the tom's relation to the leader, but he also knew Larkclaw had been apart of that rogue group that had infiltrated Springclan. So seeing the other tom up at night made the senior warrior question his intentions. "Hey you." He called out.
Lafayette stopped in his tracks. He wasn’t dumb. Cicero trained him to be the perfect little hound, to excel in all three of FallClan’s separated skills in order to track down and leave Cicero’s enemies with the gifts of death or disfigurement. When Lastquietus started to follow him he could smell it. The young warrior played dumb, though, turning around to look at the senior warrior with doe eyes reminiscent of his grandfather. “Hmm~? Are you out on a stroll as well? Its a lovely crescent we have tonight. The new moon will be upon us soon~” He sang with his strange accent, slowly sliding his way to the older toms side.
