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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Glaniur sighed, stretching out on a rock just outside of camp. It was quiet, and Glaniur felt that he couldn't appreciate that enough. Though, it wasn't completely quiet, as there were still sounds that a normal ear would overlook. Glaniur, however, was trained to notice these things. The soft rustling of the leaves around him, the hurried hop of a rabbit that was probably trying to escape being hunted. These things were normal for him to hear.
life is a lot, and I'm sorry for how much it impacts me here
1,453 posts
Post by neverstarstar on Oct 8, 2019 23:38:43 GMT -5
Frostfire had finished a mouse off a little while ago and was now dozing beside the freshkill pile, looking more and more like an elder despite stubbornly remaining a prison guard. When he was awoken by a clanmate nosing through the pile he stood and stretched, padding towards the entrance to camp without any real direction. What was there to even do? The day was silent, a strange peace had blanketed the clan today and he couldn't help but feel relaxed and lazy as he squeeze his broad shoulders through the entrance.
The sound of movement caught Glaniur's attention, and he looked up to see Frostfire heading his way, though he was unsure if the older tom even knew if he was there or not. "Should you even be wandering by yourself?" he asked, though his voice lacked any concern. He had seen the cat around plenty of times, and at first he had thought that he was an elder already. Time had proved his guess wrong, however, when he kept seeing Frostfire doing his duties as a prison guard. Perhaps, if Glaniur were in charge of them instead of the hunters, he would have forced the old tom to retire already, but that was none of his business. After all, he was in charge of the hunters.
life is a lot, and I'm sorry for how much it impacts me here
1,453 posts
Post by neverstarstar on Oct 14, 2019 11:30:38 GMT -5
The older tom paused and turned towards Glaniur, voice carefully neutral as he answer, "I'm a prison guard." The reminder was firm and didn't invite further comment on his position. He knew that he looked old and worn out but he couldn't imagine being an elder. Frostfire wanted to die in battle, heroically, so he could be remembered as a beacon of strength. That would go away as an elder, so he held off. The younger cat he was speaking to was not a cat he knew well, all Frostfire knew was a name and that he was in charge of the hunters. So, feeling cheeky, he added, "you can escort me if you want."
At the request, Glaniur let out a laugh. "Oh? You trust me to escort you? All alone? You must not know much about me, do you?" Still, the speckled tom stood up, stretching out his limbs. A cat that didn't know about him was rare, for not only was Glaniur obviously an outsider, but he had a long history of near-destruction behind him. The tom had a knack for showing up in places just before disaster struck, whether he was the cause of it or not. Plus, he had been a leader a couple of times before, although never of Winterclan. This was one of the clans that didn't seem to take kindly to him, and he relished in that fact. It made his position as keeper actually feel earned. "Where do you plan on going, old man?"
