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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Quillkit found himself just beside the camp's exit, following the movement of an especially large beetle. The fluffy brown tom-kit was intent on his prey, occasionally reaching out a paw to redirect its movement so it would stay in camp. He couldn't bear to think of killing it, but tracking it for more than half an hour was enough entertainment for him.
Doefreckle slunk towards the camp exit, glancing every few seconds over his shoulder like it was something criminal to dare leave his adopted Clan now that he was deputy; truth be told, he was feeling slightly— somewhat— incredibly overwhelmed by how quickly his life had done a complete about-face and wanted a few moments to himself out in the meadow, away from all the supportive gazes and warm smiles and well-wishing. They all seemed a lot more certain he would be able to handle it than he was. Really, he—
"Ah!" He looked down a heartbeat before he would have stepped on the little kit by the tunnel, springing backwards and landing in the dust on his hindquarters. "You— that's—" And then he spotted the beetle. "Ooh, what've you got there?" He dropped into a purposefully comical hunting crouch, his rear end sticking up higher than his head was tall, and bumbled towards the beetle with his chin brushing the ground and his gaze wide and cross-eyed. "Is that a... slug?" he whispered. "A butterfly? Oh, no, silly me, it's a ladybug, isn't it?" Without looking away from the beetle, and still pretending to be transfixed on it, he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "hi, sir, I'm Doefreckle, sir, mind if I tag along on your bug-finding-mission, sir?"
"Issa beetle," Quillkit informed Doefreckle brightly, looking up with delight at the playful stance of the deputy. Summerclan had been warm and welcoming to him so far, and he had never been so well-fed. And now a playmate had arrived! "I'm Quillkit. I'm from Primal Instinct, do you know what that is? I walked here by myself last moon. You can come hunt beetles with me, but we can't kill them. That's mean." The tom-kit's tail wavered high over his tiny body, quivering with energy.
"A beetle," he echoed, with a serious frown and a little nod that said uh-huh, uh-huh, got it, sir. "Quillkit!" He half-sat up out of his crouch, smiling down at the kit. "D'you know, I think that's the most impressive name I've ever heard in my life! And-- Primal Instinct? All by yourself?" He ducked back down, glanced around, and whispered, like it was the biggest secret in the world, "don't tell anyone else, but I think you must be braver than any warrior here-- no, I think you must be braver than Ravenstar herself!" He hoped he managed to stifle the faint choking sound at the back of his throat when the little kit mentioned where he was from; it was a surprise, certainly, to hear that such a sweet thing could come from a place of such blood and cruelty, but the last thing he wanted to do was hold his heritage against him. The kit deserved just as happy a start to life as any Clan-born cat.
... but we can't kill them. That's mean. Doefreckle's heart swelled painfully at the kit's innocence, a sudden wave of protectiveness washing over him. "Whaddaya gonna do when you catch them, then?" he whispered, wiggling up behind the beetle and giving it a big sniff.
Quillkit wiggled with delicious pleasure under the tom's praise, holding his head a few degrees higher. "Ravenstar is so nice! She found me after Pebblefur did, and she let me stay here. I can't believe that I'm braver than her!"
His next question seemed to stump Quillkit for a moment. What to do with a beetle once it was caught... "I dunno, mister Doefreckle. Maybe we could find him another beetle, and they can be friends."
Doefreckle smiled lop-sidedly at the kit's suggestion, but forced it into a serious, frowning nod a heartbeat later. "Okay, one more beetle, got it, Mr. Quillkit, sir. But—" He pretended to look afraid, sitting back with one paw in the air and looking around with wide, wary eyes; when his gaze flicked back down to Quillkit, he gulped dramatically and leaned in to whisper, "they can fight really well, can't they, beetles? Don't they turn into giant creatures and eat cats whole? And breathe fire, and—and read minds? As the bravest cat in the Clan, you'll have to promise to protect me if we stumble across any of those beetles."
Glancing around once more, he settled back into a crouch, careful not to crush the beetle; it scuttled beneath him and he raised each forepaw in turn to let it pass, smiling down at it. "But if you promise that, my next question, O Great Beetle Whisperer, is... where exactly do we find 'em?"
Quillkit was latched on to Doefreckle's every word, growing wide-eyed as he spoke of monster beetles that could eat cats whole. He had seen a great many beetles in his four moons, but none like that. The deputy's dependency on his protection bolstered him though, and he straightened up, puffing out his chest slightly. "I will protect you with my life!" He swore in a hushed whisper, before tilting his head towards the nursery. "There's always a beetle or two behind where I sleep. But if we leave this beetle, we might not be able to find him again! Can you keep him here while I go find another one?" His small nose twitched in excitement as he looked up at Doefreckle, his green eyes alight.
Doefreckle tilted his head to follow Quillkit’s gaze, nodding along sombrely. “Good point! Okay, I’ll babysit this beetle and make sure he doesn’t eat any of my warriors — you go find him a friend. But hurry! I might not be able to contain his immeausrable power for—“ As the beetle crawled up and over his forepaw, he began to sputter and choke, like he was being overwhelmed by its strength. “Hurry, Quillkit! His— mind control powers— are too strong! He needs— a friend!”
Quillkit took off, his small form weaving among the few warriors who were in camp, stirred to urgency by the beetle's attack on Doefreckle. Behind the nursery, he scouted along the dirt with utmost scrutiny, nose to the ground, until he found what he was looking for, a small brown beetle among a patch of grass. Moving quickly, he stomped behind the creature to get it moving, then guided it with his paws until it was heading in the right direction. He trailed behind it as it moved towards Doefreckle, occasionally correcting its trajectory, until the two reached the deputy and his beetle. "Got one!" Quillkit announced brightly, beaming.
When Quillkit disappeared from sight behind the nursery, Doefreckle stopped play-acting and settle down onto his belly with his forepaws stretched out in front of him, purring happily and guiding the beetle back and forth idly with his paws. His tail-tip twitched lazily as he waited, warm in the sunshine pooling across the camp. The moment the kit reappeared, he once again began to thrash wildly, to choke and splutter and wheeze, limbs flailing in the dust.
Got one! "My hero!" he cried, slowly calming as the two beetles scuttled on the earth together. Every few seconds, he twitched one of his legs, or his ears, or his whiskers, just for good measure, like he was getting used to once more controlling his one body. With a huge sigh, he collapsed onto the ground, limbs splayed out in every direction, and looked up at Quillkit with a lazy smile. "That was a close one, huh?" he mumbled, still panting. "One more second and I think I would'a been a goner, forever enslaved to the King Beetle's evil army." He watched as the beetles shuffled off towards the camp entrance, one brow quirking as he gazed after them. "Where do you think they're gonna go now? Do you think the beetle you found is gonna be enough to turn the other one good? Are they going off to wreak more havoc, or are they gonna settle down happily and have thousands of tiny little beetle kits? So many questions." He grinned up at the kit fondly.
Quillkit beamed right up at Doefreckle, thoroughly tickled by the whole ordeal. "They're for sure going to live happily together. I can tell. Good ones are always stronger than the bad ones." Quillkit felt a shiver of energy run down his spine, so he danced in a quick circle. "Is it almost dinner time? It's so cool to eat every day! I didn't know I could fit so much food in my tummy before I got here."
Good ones are always stronger than the bad ones. Doefreckle felt a chill run down his spine, coupled rather strangely with a warm glow inside his chest; this little kit was a living testament to that sentiment, and he almost couldn’t believe that such a sweet being could have come from the bowels of such a place as the League. Either way, he was joyful beyond words that he’d found his way here; he didn’t want to think of the kind of cat Quillkit could have grown into if he’d stayed in the place of his birth.
He smiled and pushed himself to his paws, dust clinging to his underside. “You’re always gonna remember that, aren’t you?” he asked, forcing his voice to stay gentle and teasing against the weight of the words. He nudged Quillkit softly with his paw. “Good ones are always stronger? No matter what happens, little pal o’ mine, doing what makes your heart feel happy and right is the only thing you should ever try to do.” His smile softening, he added, “you don’t have to promise me or anything. Just remember one thing: good is always better.”
Purring, he leaped to his paws and bowed down into a long stretch that made his muscles quiver, trying not to focus on the way his heart squeezed desperately at the thought of Quillkit not having had enough to eat not long before. “If you want it to be dinnertime, lil’ buddy, then dinnertime it is,” he purred. He flicked his head towards the fresh-kill pile and took one step closer to it, waiting for the kit with one paw raised in the air. “All you have to worry about is eating and playing and napping, and eating, and playing, and eating, and napping—and, ooh! Did I mention eating? Once you’re an apprentice, you’ll have to make sure you don’t eat anything on hunting patrols before you’ve brought back prey for your Clan, but— ooh, speaking of which, pop quiz!" He cleared his throat, scrubbed the smile from his face, and raised his chin, looking down at the kit seriously. "Quillkit: can you guess why you have to bring back prey before you can eat for yourself?”
[ sorry this suddenly got long hahah!! quillkit is my baby c': ♥ ]
Quillkit scrunched his nose, thinking hard over the question. He never had a problem sharing his food, but the rule did stump him a little. “Is it cause the kits can’t get their own food? So the older cats gotta feed them first so everyone eats?” He didn’t know that the warriors made sure that he had food to eat before they did. “That sure is nice of them.”
Doefreckle let out a pleased purr and swept his tail around Quillkit to usher him along towards the fresh-kill pile. "Clever one, aren't you?" He smiled down at him. "Warriors swear an oath to put the needs of the Clan before themselves — even if they are starving, even if it hurts, they know the elders, queens, and kits need to eat before they do, because they're the ones who really need it. It is nice of them, but, ugh, StarClan, it sure is pretty tough when your belly is grumbling and all you wanna do is eat the mouse in your mouth. Speaking of which!"
He scooped a mouse off the top of the fresh-kill pile with the claws of one forepaw and held it up in the air, grinning down at Quillkit mischievously. "Catch." He flung the mouse across the clearing and sat down to watch it skid and bounce in the dust. Terribly bad etiquette for the deputy to use prey in a game, but he'd never been very good at etiquette anyway.
Quillkit stared up at Doefreckle in honest admiration- the warriors were all nice, but not one of them was as entertaining or cool in his eyes as the deputy. "Wow!" He exclaimed, wiggling once more before bounding off after the tossed prey, his tiny feet leaving little prints in the ground as he went. He reached the prey, mouth closing around the neck as he'd seen the older cats carrying food. He wasn't quite strong enough to pick it off the ground, so he threw his weight back and dragged it towards Doefreckle, setting it down in front of the older tom once he reached him. Quillkit's small chest rose and fell from the effort, his feet doing a quick tip-tap in excitement. "I got it!"
Doefreckle watched the kit scamper across the clearing with an amused purr; when he finally managed to drag the mouse back to him, the deputy let out a big, melodramatic gasp and joined in Quillkit’s excited little tap dance with his forepaws, ignoring the pain in his injured leg at the quick movements. “You got it!” he echoed, voice a high-pitched squeal. He grinned and, with a huge sigh, flopped onto the earth like he was exhausted from all the dancing. “You’ve got too much energy,” he purred, flicking the kit’s shoulder with his tail-tip. “Eat up, now. You’ve earned it.”
With that, he feigned a wide, groaning yawn, teeth glinting in the sunlight, and collapsed his head back down on the ground, faking a series of rumbling, snuffling snores. He peeked open one eye to look at Quillkit before quickly snapping it back shut and resuming his pretend snoring, growing progressively louder and louder until he could feel it in the tips of his back toes.
Quillkit obeyed without hesitation, tearing his small, needle-like teeth into the food and gulping it down. Doefreckle was right about his energy levels, and he often found himself ravenous at mealtimes. She had eaten his fill before the snores registered in his brain, and he wandered over to the deputy, licking his lips.
"He-ey." Quillkit prodded his small brown paw into the tom's side, giggling. "No naps!"
Doefreckle pretended to snuffle in his sleep, rolling over and pushing Quillkit away gently with a forepaw. “Go away, mama,” he grumbled, face half-smooshed in the dust. “It’s the middle of the niiiiiiight.”
"Nooo!" Quillkit laughed again, clambering up onto Doefreckle's side and laying down on him before sticking his small nose into his ear. "No naps!" He repeated, pushing his cheek against the deputy's. "No naps, no naps!"
Doefreckle snored away as Quillkit clambered onto his side, grumbling and mumbling in his feigned sleep. When the kit squealed into his ear, he pretended to start awake, letting out a loud, squeaking gasp and half-sitting up. When he saw Quillkit slipping down his chest fur, he caught him with one paw and flopped back down onto the ground with a relieved sigh, settling the kit back into the crook between his shoulder and his cheek; he felt as light and as soft as a warm feather. "Quillkit," he sighed, blowing a raspberry with his lips and shaking his head. "Thank StarClan it's just you. I thought Ravenstar had caught me napping on the job. Thank you so much for waking me up or I would've been crowfood."
With one paw, he scooped Quillkit onto the top of his head and, with a huge yawn, sat up with the kit balanced between his ears. "Quillkit?" he asked, looking around with a frown. "Quillkit? Where'd ya go?"
