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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Bearspirit's eyes opened, as the new sunrise rays warmed her face. Her mind still wrapped in sleep, she lifted her head groggily and let out a wide yawn. Although her muscles screamed in protest, she got to her paws, back arching in a stretch, and smacked her lips together. She would like to say that she loved mornings, but she hated waking up, especially when it meant leaving the warm den of her Clanmates. But, she had to admit, the silence that permeated the still sleepy camp made it all the better; even she, who flourished in crowds, still needed the time to wake up and prepare herself for the day. Bearspirit made her way out of the den, sidestepping those who moved and repositioned themselves in their sleep, and blinked rapidly when the sun hit her eyes. The snow crunched underneath her pawsteps and she shivered, even though the warmth of the den still lingered.
She laid down, after she had taken a piece of prey off of the pile, though she didn't touch it. Bearspirit glanced around the camp, waiting to see who would catch her eye - this was her favorite tradition she had, she made it her mission to share the morning with someone new, everyday. A little food never hurt to sweeten the deal.
Although the sun was just now rising, Glaniur was already up and about. In fact, he had such a sleep schedule that made others wonder if he ever actually slept. It seemed as if he was always awake, always aware enough to throw sarcastic remarks at others. He had learned from experience that sleeping near others was dangerous, especially when they weren't the most fond of him. He was an outsider in Winterclan, someone who didn't belong here, who wasn't born here. Thus, he normally wasn't treated kindly by others, but Glaniur didn't care. He was used to it, and being treated any other way was too suspicious at this point.
So, as the first rays of light shined upon the camp, Glaniur returned with a hare in his jaws, which he dumped into the fresh kill pile with disgust.
Bearspirit's ears pricked, as Glaniur walked into camp. She eyed him in the corner of her eyes, quickly debating with herself to ask him to join her. There had been many whispers and mutters about him, oh yes, she had learned quite a bit about the odd tom. Apparently during his stint as a rogue, he ate live prey, enjoying the way that they squawked with him. But then again, that was just a kit's retelling. Besides, if it was true, wouldn't it be better to hear from the source himself? Her whiskers twitched in anticipation and she forced the small voices of her mother and father away, warning her against fraternizing with someone who was not a pureblood WinterClan Warrior. "I have to admit, I'm a bit jealous of you Hunters - you have a reason to leave the camp at your disposal. Won't you join me and tell me of what it's like on the outside?" She drawled, gesturing for him to join her.
Noticing the invitation, Glaniur decided to ignore it. Instead, he motioned with his own tail, giving Bearspirit's piece of prey a look. "Are you going to eat?" he asked, although his disattached tone hinted that he didn't really care about the answer either way. Then, his signature grin spread across his speckled face. "If not, what's the point of me telling you about outside, when showing is much more fun." He lifted his head, clear eyes catching the orange of the sun, as if issuing a challenge. "I get a feeling that you wouldn't exactly believe me if I were to tell you anything, anyway."
Bearspirit watched him for a moment, weighing her options in her mind. She ran the calculations of if her being seen with Glaniur would affect her rank within the Clan so much so that she should say no to his offer. She got to her paws, deciding that it was too tempting to decline the offer. "Since you made such a a convincing argument, I can't possibly say no, now can I?" She replied, her hackles rising a bit as she caught his head tilt, challenging her. Well, she just couldn't say no to that - her pride was at stake here! "Lead the way," Bearspirit said, after placing the piece of prey back on the pile.
The grin on his face spread wider, pleased that Bearspirit had been so easy to convince. "Very well." With a flick of his tail, Glaniur spun around and marched out of camp without sparring another look at the she-cat. He knew she would follow, he saw how her pride had taken his challenge. Now, he just had to decide where a good place to lead her to was. Just how far would she follow him anyway? Then, he had an idea. Would she even know what the borders looked like, if she had never left camp before? "Did you never explore as an apprentice?" he asked, once again sounding disinterested in the answer. "Sneak out as a kit?"
"Course I explored, I visited the borders after all," she snapped back, deciding then and there that she did not like this tom. He was acting as though she was some rabbit-brained kit! "It was part of my training, after all." Doubt you'd know anything about that, Bearspirit thought, glancing at him in the corner of her eyes. "It may come to you as a surprise, but I'm not one to break the rules," she continued, sniffing disdainfully.
"Why do you ask?" Bearspirited questioned, after a beat of silence.
Lifting one shoulder in a poor shrug, Glaniur continued on, letting silence take over them for a few moments before answering. "That type of life is such a bore," he offered in an answer. "Doing exactly what you're told all the time. That's no way to live life." He leapt over a fallen tree, giving a backwards glance to the she-cat as he did so. "If you were wondering, yes, I've been an apprentice in a clan before. Yes, I have trained apprentices before. Oddly enough, some clans are more welcoming to me than Winterclan." A moment of silence as he scrunched his nose. "I tend to avoid them. They're less fun than, say, getting yourself thrown in Winterclan's prison and sneaking out every night."
He was trying to get a rise out of her, she could just feel the smugness rolling off of him. Biting back a low growl, Bearspirit rolled her shoulders, before leaping over the fallen tree as well. "I guess we should consider ourselves lucky, if you've decided to please us with your presence," she replied dryly. She wasn't quite sure on his belief of fun equaling being kept a prisoner; perhaps the rumors were true and that he had lost his mind. At this, Bearspirit paused and looked him over, a little worried now. If he had lost a couple marbles, was it safe for her to leave camp with him? Nah, she was fine, she could take him.
Jogging a bit to catch him, she called out from behind him, "So, where are you taking me? Any place in particular?" Bearspirit glanced around, trying to find anything that could mark where they were going, just in case things went a bit south. A large rock was off to the side of the path they were taking, it had a ledge at the top of it, with dirty, melting snow dripping off it. Moving a bit off to the side, she quickly carved a small hole in the snow at the base of the rock and put a stone down in the hole. That would be a nice mark.
Having had the lessons of observation quite literally beaten into him from a young age, Glaniur picked up on Bearspirit's intentions immediately, and decided there and then that he would take her on a roundabout way to their destination. He was used to being doubted, but he didn't have to just take it in stride. They were already near the middle of the mountain that the camp was settled on, but they still had to climb the neighboring mountain as well. They had quite the hike in front of them yet.
"Tell me, do you believe in ghosts?" once again, he reflected the question away from him, this time deciding to shoot one right back. Throughout his travels, he had heard quite the fair share of ghost stories, but met even more cats who were firm in their belief that such a thing could never happen. It was an interesting topic, to be sure, and one that Glaniur expected to take Bearspirit by surprise with its suddenness.
The question caused for some alarm in Bearspirit – why was he asking about ghosts? She was silent for a moment, before answering with the first thing that popped into her head, “That’s a weird question to ask someone when you’re dragging them to an unknown place.” Because, really, she wasn’t sure if she believed in ghosts, spirits, or whatever you would call them. Even after chatting with Cinnamonpaw, it was still a struggle for her to connect with the ethereal, and perhaps supernatural. Trying to steer the conversation into something much more manageable, she glanced at the increasing incline of the mountain and narrowed her eyes slightly at it, before saying, “You still haven’t answered my question. Where are we going?”
Perhaps this conversation would go round and round with neither wanting to give the other a proper answer. Bearspirit was quite fond of that technique – avoiding difficult answers was her specialty. “Do you believe in ghosts?” She couldn’t help but asking, giving him a side-eye.
