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!
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A N G E L I Q U E "We always long for the forbidden things, and desire what is denied us."
Small flakes of ivory fell from the heavens and covered the Earth below in a blanket of white. All was quiet, it seemed, except for the faint chirping of birds that sounded from the tops of snow-covered trees. The mountain would have remained undisturbed, if it wasn't for the small creature weaving between the trees. She was almost hard to see, for her pelt matched that of the snow.
Long, billowing waves of milky fur flowed elegantly in the breeze as the feline's long legs moved over the expanse, propelling said feline faster as powder was kicked up around her. A pair of vibrant amber eyes stared ahead with a gleam of determination within them; it was obvious she was up to some task, whatever it may be.
She was about to continue into the wood, if it wasn't for the pungent stench of WinterClan cats that had marked the edge of their border. She stopped for a moment, looking into the dense woodland. After a moments hesitation, she continued on past the border. Some would say reckless on her part, for the cats of WinterClan were not to be messed with, but in this feline's case, she did not care.
It seemed to be a part of the tom's daily routine to just wander around the territory on his own. Glaniur enjoyed getting away from everything for a little bit, and he was sure the camp was glad for the bit of time without his presence. After all, he had yet to actually meet anyone who enjoyed his company, but somehow he had become one of the keepers, much to his amusement. The hunters may hate him for not being born in Winterclan, but now they were forced to listen to him. It was perfect. It made being in Winterclan worthwhile.
He trekked through the territory, nearing the border, when the scent of a cat caught his nose. Normally, Glaniur would claim that he didn't know the different scents of the clans, but the truth was simply that he just didn't care enough. He knew well enough of the different smells, and of the borders that he so casually ignores. This cat was not of Winterclan, and that brought a grin to the tactician's face. Oh, this could definitely be fun. And so, with that thought, he hunted down the source of the scent, not really caring to be stealthy.
