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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SummerClan was still a rather strange place to Wolftumble. Sure, he was an outsider, but he didn’t feel as separate from this Clan as he had in his birth Clan. It was a strange feeling, to belong somewhere, but it was wholeheartedly welcomed. His mind tended to wander when he wasn’t doing anything—and vaguely he wondered if he should go for a hunt or scavenge for things. But he was just so relaxed in the pool of sunshine he was currently laying in that he didn’t bother to get up. WinterClan never got this warm.
After almost dozing off for a good few moments, the tom decided that, yes, it would be in his best interest to actually do something. Nobody wants a bother. He nearly rolled his eyes at the intruding voice, but did take the words to heart. Sure, SummerClan was nice, but they most likely would not tolerate laziness. He stretched, shaking out his thick pelt. He mulled over his thoughts for a moment. Should he tend to the plants? Go for a walk? Collect? Honestly, too many choices. He floundered for a moment, standing and sitting and standing again.
Nettlewing hummed softly to himself as he’d just returned to camp having been out since the early morning hunting. He’d managed to return with a decently sized rabbit, which was a feat in of itself seeing as the cream and grey furred tom wasn’t much of a hunter to begin with. He’d carefully placed it on top of the freshkill pile before grabbing a smaller vole for himself. The tom wanted to ensure that the rabbit would go to someone that needed it the most. He then went to go find a spot to eat it in. His seafoam green eyes scanned the camp before landing on the patch of sunlight that Wolftumble just rose from. His ears perked up and the tom padded over to his fellow garden keeper. A soft chuckle rumbling in his throat as he watched the other tom change his position. “Mind if I join you?” he asked though his words came out muffled thanks to the vole currently in his jaws.
Startled by the new voice, Wolftumble jumped. He immediately, mentally, kicked himself for the weakness. “Oh—uh—“ He paused, taking in the tom before him. Who was he again? It felt like his name was on the tip of his tongue. “Yes—yes you can join me.” He scooted over a bit as if to give him space. Honestly, company would be nice. He liked talking, he really did, but it was just so difficult. “I’m, uh, Wolftumble, if you were curious.” He didn’t want to ask the tom’s name, unsure if they had even talked before. She should already know it! Whatever it was, it was probably much better than his own.
The tom smiled around his piece of prey before taking the spot that Wolftumble had made for him. Placing the vole down at his paws Nettlewing let out a content sigh as the sun warmed his pelt he turned his head to look over at the tom, “Thanks” he voiced with genuine gratefulness before bending down to take a bite of the vole. Softly chewing as he listened to the other tom speak. Nettlewing had seen the tom in passing, and knew of him, but had never had the chance to actually converse with him. With a nod and a swallow the tom gave a good natured chuckle at Wolftumble’s slight awkwardness. “I’m Nettlewing. Pleasure to finally talk with you, Wolftumble” he replied with a smile and then gesturing with one of his paws to the vole the tom tilted his head, “Did you want some?”
“Nettlewing,” he whispered softly, committing the name to memory. It would die no good to forget anymore. He didn’t want to look like a fool again. “Oh, and uhm, no problem.” He added, his paws fiddling with themselves. He lay himself on his stomach, his tail waving anxiously. He laughed awkwardly at Nettlewing’s words, unsure of what to exactly say. Why couldn’t he get this conversation thing under wraps? Why did he have to always mess up? He pushed down his anger and unhappiness, favouring instead to focus on the conversation. He stared at the vile for a moment, considering the offer. Uselessness doesn’t deserve a meal. He shook his head, “No thank you, but thanks for offering.” He’ll just hunt later and then eat later. He wouldn’t be a bother and just drain SummerClan’s food supply.
The floral scented cat gave a small smile and a dip of his head in response to Wolftumble's acceptance of him taking a spot beside him. Nettlewing had been in the other toms place before... sort of. Nettlewing wasn't a SummerClan born and raised cat, but the tom had spent a good portion of his life within the clan. He'd always made it a goal of his to try and be as welcoming to newcomers as he could be, because he was once like them. The cream and grey tom could almost feel the awkwardness and nervousness rolling off of the other tom as he noticed him fidgeting around. Nettlewing's attention shifted once again as the tom politely refused his offer of sharing the vole. He would have insisted that the tom take him up on the offer, but didn't want him to feel more uncomfortable then he already looked so he just nodded his head and replied with a smile, "Oh, okay." He went to go take another bite of the vole before he lifted his head and looked over at Wolftumble, "Did you want to maybe tend the garden's with me after I'm done?" he asked tilting his head slightly he then quickly tacked on, "You don't have to of course! I just figured it's more fun to do it with someone else and not alone."
Wolftumble eyed the tom curiously, though he tried to hide it. His attempts were futile, so he quickly looked away. He focused his gaze on his paws instead, watching with feigned interest as he sheathed and unsheathed his claws. The ground beneath them was warm, and still, even now, it was a strange sight to see the healthy grass. He wondered, very briefly, what it tasted like. He startled as Nettlewing’s voice intruded his thoughts. “What? Oh! Yes, yeah, absolutely.” He said, adding a nervous laugh. Nettlewing’s voice was nice—he was nice, and he wanted Wolftumble to help him? “No, don’t worry, I’d love to,” he reassured.
Nettlewing couldn't hold back the smile that appeared on his face that Wolftumble had agreed to go with him to the garden's. "Great! I'll finish up here and then we can get going. I love gardening during this time of the day~" he lilted with genuine happiness and excitement his tail swaying mirroring his eagerness. He quickly began to finish up the rest of his meal, though he didn't eat to fast in fear of potentially choking and making a proper fool of himself and ruining their outing. While quickly eating he did take the time to enjoy the warm rays of sunlight causing his own body to relax with comfort. The tom swallowed down the final bite, licking his chops as he did so. Turning to look back at Wolftumble, "Did you need anything before we leave or are you good?" he hummed in a contented tone having been soothed with a fullbelly and warm body. He usually brought some dried up moss to use to soak up some water but with the rising heat they'd probably find some on their trek to the garden's.
Something about Nettlewing's smile made Wolftumble smile too, and he didn't quite mind. He just seemed so happy, and it was quite infectious. "Alright, then." His tone was quiet and rather resigned. He had given up trying to make his voice sound confident, it never worked and made him look like an idiot. As Nettlewing looked back, Wolftumble caught his eye. Green. Beautifully green, he thought. The bi-coloured tom stood and stretched out his rather stiff muscles. He could--should--relax around this tom. "I'm good," he said, standing straighter. "I'm, uhm, good to go whenever you are?" He phrased it as a question, not wanting to sound as if he were rushing the tom. Did he seem rude? He hoped not.
