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!
News & Updates
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.
And here she was, pregnant once more with the kits of a tom who would never be her mate. She didn’t mind, though, as for the both of them, it was a win-win. She loves children, every part of raising them, and Doestar, well, Doestar loves them too. And he wanted them. And Beetuft has offered herself to mother them. She regretted nothing. Now came the hard part. Figuring out names for the little guys. Her favourite part of pregnancy, other than being able to sleep a lot and eat whenever she wanted, of course.
Wobbling over to the Leader’s den, Beetuft poked her head in and let out a long purr. “Doestar, sweetums!” She called in a song-song voice. “How ‘bout a walk? We have some . . . things to discuss.” She tried having a serious tone, but a small laugh broke through.
I have no idea how many threads we have but apparently it’s not enough. oop fox
At first, the entire arrangement had been unbelievably uncomfortable for him; he hardly knew how to act around she-cats at the best of times, and now one of them, a cat he’d never care for in that way, was carrying his kits. The whole thing had felt strange and wrong and unnatural, far too intimate and like he was being unfaithful to Chim by even entertaining the thought, and he’d had worse anxiety bouts and breathless panic attacks and sleepless nights over it than he’d really ever had in his life. One particular time, he’d thought he was having an allergic reaction to some flowers before realising, no, he’d just forgotten to breathe. It had all just arisen because she’d seen him watching the Clans’ kits with a wistful little smile and asked a simple question, and now they were... here.
But now, it was beginning to feel a little more normal. Beetuft knew his boundaries, knew his feelings, and he could relax and just enjoy her platonic company and the excitement of the future. And, really, he could barely contain that excitement — he’d hardly stopped grinning since she’d told him she was pregnant, between the anxious questions of are you sure you’re okay with this? and the constant, unceasinging thank you, thank you, thank yous, of course. He’d wanted to tell everyone, all the cats in the Clan, every bird in the sky and bee in the meadow, and he’d pretty much done exactly that, bouncing through the days in a happy fog. A part of him worried that he was fussing over her too much — bringing her flowers and berries and fresh-kill ten times a day, telling apprentices to make her a brand new nest every morning, panicking if he saw her have even the slightest stumble — but the other half just wanted her to know how much he appreciated what she was doing for him.
Another part that he didn’t want to think about felt sick with guilt over replacing Batkit and Foxkit so soon, over the possibility of loving his own biological kits more than he did Lilykit and Applekit, and he feared that he’d made his monumental decision for all the wrong reasons, but he pushed that all down. He’d forced himself to heal too quickly after his kits’ deaths, forced himself back into normal life too soon, and that would come back to haunt him some day, but it wouldn’t be now.
“Yes!” he replied immediately, leaping to his paws and shaking flower petals from his fur. “Yes, of course!” He hurried over to her and touched his nose to hers, walking a quick, anxious circle around her. “Are you feeling alright? Are you hungry? Can I get you anything? Are you sure you can walk? It’s— I know it’s only been a few days but,” he let out a shy laugh, the tips of his ears flushing pink, “I don’t really know how this all works exactly.”
She chuckled at the leaders concerns because, oh StarClan, he was just the cutest little guy! “Oh no, I’m perfectly fine!” She reassured, turning tail on the Leader’s den and skipping towards the camp exit. “I already ate.” She laughed again, softer than the last one. “What about you?” She turned her head and eyes him, feeling a mix of concern, admiration, and pity. The poor guy had lost his sons, which was, even though she didn’t even know them, something she had cried about. She couldn’t help but think about the ‘what ifs’ with her own kits. But Doestar was becoming stronger, now, after that. And while he probably wasn’t looking to replace them, she knew he was moving on.
“It’s fine, I know what I’m doing.” She reassured again, her words followed by a purr. Oh yes, this time she was prepared, unlike previously where she didn’t exactly know what she was doing at first.
"Oh, no— I'm fine," he replied a little sheepishly, offering a small smile like he was afraid of being chastised; he'd never been a big eater to begin with and, since everything with his kits, he'd mostly forgotten to eat at all. When he did remember, the self-punishment of denying himself usually won out. He didn't deserve to be healthy. The hunger was just a dull pain that he mostly forgot about, and, besides, he'd had a mouse, like... what, two days ago? Perfectly reasonable. It wasn't self-destructive, it was just efficient.
He shuffled his forepaw, glancing down at the earth, before snapping his head back up and adding in a more bright and cheerful voice, "and you're the... the pre-... the one having babies, so, I get to worry about you and not the other way 'round." He gave a big nod to punctuate his statement before trot-limping past her through the gorse tunnel... which lasted about half a second before he reappeared with a soft, apologetic little laugh and fell in step close beside her, his fur brushing hers. "I'll get used to it," he assured her bashfully, ear tips pink; and he would - he'd get used to not being the young tom with no attachments and no one to look after, get used to the responsibilities of needing to take care of a she-cat... expecting... his kits... he'd be fine!
She eyed him suspiciously but decided she wouldn’t bother him, not yet, at least. She smiled widely at the pretty yellow flowers as she passed them through the horse tunnel, wincing as her tail caught for a heartbeat. Beetuft batted his shoulder gently. “You mean pregnant? S’not like the word is cursed or anythin’.” She laughed, heading in the direction of the one of the wildflower meadows. Her paws hit heavy on the earth and the sun lay hotly on her back. She loved the summer with all her heart, but sadly, her pelt didn’t really agree with it. “Oh StarClan I’m so excited!” She squealed, dancing on her toes.
"Yes," he replied, voice slow and awkward, "that... word. That one. That very exact one." He grinned and glanced at Beetuft with a little laugh. Taking in a deep breath and ignoring the tingle of anxiety and vague disgust in his stomach, he squeezed his eyes shut and finally blurted out, "pregnant. There! Hah! I said it." He trotted alongside her happily, looking up at her with an admiring, cheery expression; truly, he was more than a little in awe of her and wanted nothing more than to impress her and earn her approval. Which, really, he probably already had, but she was just... so calm, and so sure of herself, and so sweet, and not self-conscious about anything, and he loved it. Oh StarClan I'm so excited! Doestar grinned and let out a giggle, watching her dance along with an infectious, easy sort of joy. He quickened his pace to keep up with her. "Good!" he replied, beaming. "I'm..." He lost his voice for a moment, too giddy to speak; when he finished his sentence, the words came out all at once in a happy gush, doing a quick little tip-dap dance with his paws, "I'm so excited, too!" He didn't have to pretend otherwise with her, didn't have to feel guilty; he was so happy, so thankful, felt like his heart would burst with it all, and he didn't want to have to contain it anymore.
“Yay! I’m so proud!” She said with a weird mix of happiness and sarcasm. The intense smell of wonderful wild flowers filled her nose, making her give a little hum of pleasure. “Oh, Id expect you to be. I’m so happy for you!” She just wanted to press his face into her fluff and hug him forever. He was just—what was the word?—so adorable! The little tom has surprised her by becoming leader, but from day one she was in full support.
“Just up here.” She purred, seeing the mix of endless colours that made up the flower meadow. “Hurry up, we’ve got things to y’all about.” Though she tried to sound it, her tone was anything but demanding, more of a joyful purr than anything else. “I also wanna show you this cool trick I just learned.”
Doestar let out a happy, breathless purr and bounded as quickly as he could after the she-cat. "What's the cool trick?" he asked, finding a patch of long, golden grass amid the blooms of wildflowers and flopping down in the middle, flattening the stems beneath him. "Ooh, did you learn to fly? I've always wanted to do that." The sun beat down on him, warm and soothing. He rested his head on the flowers, feeling suddenly sleepy, and smiled up at her. He'd never really been out like this with a she-cat, never spent much one-on-one time alone with anyone other than a tom, but his nerves and anxieties were already beginning to quieten; she was too warm to be frightened around.
She could feel the countless petals collecting in her fur amid the plenty of leaves and sticks already gathered there. “I wish, I’d love to fly. I wonder what the clouds feel like.” She let out a loud purr and trotted away from the small grassy area. “No, but...” Beetuft trailed off as she picked flowers, leaving the stems still intact. Padding pack with enough flowers, making sure to get some bluebells, seeing as Doestar had a lot of them around and in his den.
Taking the stems in her large paws, she tried to delicately weave them together. Of course, it proved to be quite difficult, but she worked for a while, chatting while she did so. “Okay, now is the time. It’s tome to think of kit names!” She nearly shouted, continuing to weave the flower stems together.
Doestar watched her lazily as she padded around him picking flowers, rolling onto his side and twitching his tail-tip absently as bees buzzed through the tall flowers; everything smelled like sun-baked earth and sweet pollen. When she settled down beside him, he sat up a little and watched her work, admiring the bluebells; the sight of them made his heart fizz with a comforting sort of warmth. Kit names! Caught off guard, he sputtered in alarm, eyes widening. "Kit names?" he echoed, letting out a flustered, breathy laugh. Truthfully, he hadn't even considered that they'd need names, that he'd have to help come up with them, that... well, really, hadn't thought that much at all about the realities of the situation. Talking about names felt so responsible. "Isn't is a bit... early?"
She laughed softly, as sweet as honey, stopping for a second to examine her work. It looked a bit wonky, but it wasn’t all too bad. “Too early? It’s never too early! As soon as I found out I was expecting my first litter, the first thing I thought about were names!” Stopping once again, she admired the somewhat weird looking flower crown with a large smile. Beetuft placed it on his head, seeing if it fit around his skull, but sadly, it was too small. It hung off one of his ears. To say she was surprised it was sticking together was an understatement.
“You like it? Anyways, we don’t have to stick with them, like Cloudypaw’s name was unexpected, I saw him and just thought of the fluffy clouds. And Speckledpaw was on the spot as well.”
Doestar looked up at the flower crown dangling from his ear with a small, bemused smile, glancing back down at Beetuft and grinning. “I love it,” he purred, letting out a high little laugh. He flicked an ear but kept the flowers where they were.
Cloudykit’s the most adorable name ever, though, he thought glumly. I’ll never top that. Humming for a moment in thought, he finally nodded and reached out a paw for a bundle of flowers. “Can you show me how?” he asked distractedly, already drawing the flowers over to him. He thought for a moment longer, gazing down at the bundle in front of him before glancing around and, finally, offering Beetuft a small, shy smile.
“How about...” He flopped onto his side and rolled onto his back, looking up at the clouds drifting slowly through the pale blue sky. “Tulip? Oh, no, dandelion! Marigold!” The flower always reminded him of his first proper date with Chim; he smiled at the memory and let out a soft purr. “No! No, okay, I got it: bluebell.” He dragged his forepaws outwards through the air in a rainbow shape, like he was drawing out the name. “Bluebellkit. That sounds cute, don’t ya think?” He rolled his head to the side to beam hopefully at Beetuft.
She purred, waving her paw in the air bashfully. “Aw! Thank you.” Beetuft smiled, her tail waving joyfully.
Can you show me how?
“Of course!” She pulled the bundle closer to herself and began to slowly work, making sure Doestar saw each step. “You take the flowers—with the stems still attached, of course—and start weaving the stems around and through each other, creating a kind of knot so they don’t, hopefully, fall apart. Then you continue in a circular shape until your done. And if it falls apart, that’s okay, you can just make another!” She giggled, stopping to listen to his names.
“Oh! Tulipkit is absolutely adorable! And Bluebellkit is so precious! See, look, it’s not as hard as you think.” So it seemed a flower theme, eh? She loved it! “What about . . . Uhm, Grasskit.” She giggled, though it was kinda a cute name.
Doestar smiled absently, looking down at the flowers in front of him. A knot of anxiety thrummed in his chest; how was he supposed to do this with only one functioning forepaw? Giving her an embarrassed glance, he drew the stems closer to him and, after a moment’s worried hesitation, slowly began to follow her instructions. He’d preferred just watching her do it; he liked to watch other cat’s doing things that made them happy.
But, slowly and a little clumsily, his movements unsteady and faltering, the flower crown began to come together better than he could ever have hoped. He glanced up at Beetuft again, a surprised, open-mouthed grin on his face and his eyes sparkling with pride, before going back to work. He shook out his bad forepaw when it began to ache from being used and then, finally, there was a pretty, slightly lopsided crown of celandine, primrose and lavender. Smiling down at happily, he hooked it onto his forepaw and slipped it over Beetuft’s ears; it fit her head perfectly, tucking in amid all the white and ginger fluff. “Beautiful,” he purred softly.
“Grasskit,” he teased, voice warm and playful as he gathered together more flowers. He flicked a buttercup that had fallen off its stem at the she-cat. “Mm... Cutiepiekit. Verysmallkit. Absolutelytinykit. Fluffykit!” He giggled, rolling onto his back and holding the flowers over his head against the sun and letting go, so they rained down over him. He purred, still grinning.
She felt a burst of prideful happiness, amazed at Doestar’s ability. She felt so honoured as it was placed on her head, the little crown of friendship fitting perfectly around her ears. She almost felt like teared up. “It’s perfect!” She purred, rolling onto her back but trying to keep her head up, as not to wreck the flower crown.
“Or—Or tuftywuftykit.” She giggled, sending herself into a full blown laugh. “I like absolutelytinykit.”
Doestar grinned sheepishly at Beetuft's reaction, tucking his chin into his throat in a happy, glowing sort of embarrassment. At her name suggestion, and even more so at her fit of laughter, because someone else laughing was always enough to give him the giggles as well, he grinned wider, cackling along with her. "Flufflewufflekit," he suggested, voice high-pitched with breathless laughter as he rolled from side to side on his back, forepaws pressing into his chest like a bunny's. "Cuddlywuddlysweetumskit." He threw up another bunch of petals and closed his eyes delightedly as they rained down over him, scrunching up his face. "Flopsywopsyfoopsywoopsykit!"
Suddenly spotting a white flower in the soft petals scattered all around him, he rolled over onto his stomach, flower crown still dangling from one ear, and added like he'd just discovered the meaning to life, in a quiet, sacred whisper, "Snowdropkit."
“Tublybubblykit.” Getting to her paws, she examined the flowers around her for any that stuck out. Because apparently they were going for a theme here. She usually was never organized enough to have themes kit names with her first litter, but now she knew what to expect. She knew what to do. She wasn’t panicking anymore. Snowdropkit. It sounded pleasant, and somewhat elegant, and extremely adorable. “Yes!”
Padding off into the flowers, she laughed joyously as they surrounded her, catching in her fur or brushing her nose. And one caught her eye, a familiar, beautiful flower. Small white petals, yellow middle, the little weird string things poking out. It was a jasmine. “How about Jasminekit?” She said, quieter, much I like her usually loud, bold voice.
Doestar let out a soft purr and watched with a small smile as she half-disappeared into the flowers, his heart feeling light and happy for the first time in weeks; he felt so peaceful and calm around her, and just watching her, so joyful amid the blooms, he felt like he'd been waiting his whole life just to find a friend like her. How about Jasminekit? He purred, quiet and almost forgotten, and looked down at his paws with a small, troubled frown. It was a beautiful name, and jasmine was one of his favourite flowers, but something about it didn't feel right. Every other name had felt like a piece of his heart slotting together; he wanted every one of them to be perfect.
"It's lovely," he murmured, and the sadness crept back in. The memory of Shadedsun, so lost and silent and broken, made his heart ache, and he was filled with that familiar helpless desperation to make it better. He raised his eyes to a patch of purple flowers growing up and dangling from a tree at the edge of the meadow. "Wisteriakit," he breathed. Then, louder and more confident, with a smile, "Wisteriakit." Wisteriasun.
Turning suddenly, the large she-cat bounced over to Doestar, her ginger tail held high, flower petals raining down from her makeshift crown. "Ah! I love it!" She purred, loud and long. "You're so good at naming things." Turning back once more, Beetuft made her way through the flowers and tall grass, sneezing as she breathed in too much pollen. Scouting around for more flowers to name the kits after, she spotted a tulip just ahead of her. Crouching low, she crept towards it as if it were a mouse, her eyes wide and curious.
"Tulipkit!" She called back, standing straight once more before getting distracted by a fluttering butterfly. Swatting at it with her big paws, the fluffy she-cat let out a loud giggle and continued as the creature flew away. "I think it's such an adorable name."
