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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Her eyes were closed, but her body wasn’t still in its slumber. It twitched wildly, the way a body twitched when under extreme stress. This happened often for the cat, more often than she’d like to think. It was part of the reason she tried to avoid sleep as much as possible. She dreaded the nights where it wasn’t utter exhaustion to drag her into unconsciousness. It was those nights that the dreams came back. Some of them were innocent, memories any child would have of their father. Others were not as innocent, but perhaps not evil in nature. The times that he left her alone, times where he disappointed her in all of the worst ways. Those dreams were little more than unsettling, though. It was the nightmares, the real nightmares, the embodiment of years of trauma that was carved into her bones, that bothered her. They felt too real, and she already knew that her past was inescapable.
Unfortunately for her, she was currently having one such dream. The sounds of the roaring waterfall muted some of her sleep talking. Although she wasn’t close enough to the temple to be within it, this was where she had her dreams. When she could feel one coming on, she always came to this place, not because of her intrinsic connection to the water, but because she was significantly harder to hear here. Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t audible. Her mutters that sometimes rose to panicked yells weren’t completely silenced by the roar of the water, after all.
Her body thrashed again.
“Cherie,” he whispered in her ear, his sickeningly charming smile pulled tightly across his face, “don’t disappoint me now. What ever would I tell the others if you cannot even complete a single task. You’re a pedigree, you don’t want to ruin that, do you?”
His words sent a chill up her spine. “No, I don’t,” the young feline meowed, a tremble in her voice. Despite it all, the feline was desperately attached to her father. She wanted nothing more than to make him happy, make him proud. This was her hubris; a love so intense it would kill her.
“Well, then, what are we waiting for, Cherie? It is oh so much easier once you take the first incision. And look, you have such a willing patient.” His gaze flicked over to the other cat. His eyes danced with delight as he watched his other daughter, Abrine, struggle under the weight of the rock that held her in place.
Abrine let out a choked murmur. “You don’t have to do this. We can run away together. Please, Av. Please don’t do this.”
Another chill ran down Avette’s spine. Tears welled in her eyes. This was the impossible choice: to be the heir of a throne that determined the value of her own life, or to save the life of the only cat that Avette could love nearly as much as her father.
“Listen to her,” her father grinned as he spoke, “she’s groveling. How pathetic. Avette, we simply cannot have a groveler among our ranks. Your options are simple. I do it, or you.” As her nightmare panned to the following part of the memory, one that only resurfaced under times of extreme duress, her eyes opened as she let out a scream that turned quickly into a sob. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. No, I didn’t want to. Please, believe me… I love you, I’m sorry……”
On sleepless days like this the cardinal found it easier to wear himself out, rather than lay awake in his nest, knowing that sleep would never come to him so long as he wanted it to. Boy did he want it to. Leviathan hadn't had a proper day's rest in a quarter moon, and had turned his restlessness into productivity. Assigning himself on every patrol he could manage between dusk and dawn. Now he wandered the territory exhausted and sleep continued to evade him even now. He could feel the sun god mocking him as the rays of sunlight rest on his shaggy pelt, making him feel as if it was burning holes into his fur. Just thinking about the sun on his back made his movements feel more sluggish as a whole new wave of tired washed over him. Sighing to himself he changed his course so that he was headed towards the river. The promise of the icy water made his throat dry out, and he could practically taste it now.
His amber eyes lit up when the river came into view, with a new found strength the black and white tom bounded forward. stopping at the river bank, and crouching down to lap greedily at the water as if though he hadn't drank in over a moon. When finally his lungs couldn't cake it anymore he straightened up, taking in several deep breaths to catch the one he had been holding. On the last inhale, he stiffened, as a familiar scent filled his nose, so strong he could taste it on his tongue. One he wasn't particularly fond of, but one he knew all too well. Lavender.
Instinctively he found himself heading along the river bank, in pursuit of the floral scent, walking much faster than he had been when he had set out from camp. He knew some MoonClan cats, admittedly the outsiders had found it hard to adjust to their nocturnal life style. Still it didn't mean that he had to allow his followers to wander haphazardly throughout the territory whenever they so desired. Deep down he knew this wasn't the case this time, and his suspicions were only confirmed when he came upon the sleeping gray and white cat. Right away Levee knew something was amiss, with how the she cat was tossing and turning in her sleep.
"Avette." he spoke gently at first, he knew better than to try and touch her, the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse by startling his archbishop. "Avette, wake up." he said just a bit more firmly now but he could tell by the way she was whimpering that she hadn't heard him. The Cardinal looked around briefly, there was no one around but them, and though he was no stranger to nightmares he wasn't exactly the best at comforting others when genuine emotion was involved. He opened his mouth to speak again but the words died in his throat as Avette began to cry out in her sleep. For the first time in his life Leviathan was completely still, frozen to this spot as all he could do was watch the scene play out in front of him.
As soon as she screamed Levee found himself moving forward so that he was standing over her. There was no concern in his eyes but his gaze was softer than usual as he crouched down next to her.
"Shh.. Avette, it's alright." he spoke softly, just above a whisper but, not quite his normal volume. He began to gently lick her between her ears in a comforting manner. Her lavander scent lingered on his tongue, and grew more potent with every rasp of his tongue, it was almost too much for him but, he wouldn't stop until the she-cat relaxed. "It was just a dream" He soothed, he knew that it was more than that but, she just needed the reassurance now that she was safe, and just for a while, he give her that.
She heard his voice, but it didn't quite snap her out of her sobbing. However, it made it easier to swim to the surface of her own nightmares; follow the voice. She'd done this before; in her time with Remilla, the older she-cat had had to wake Avette up this way only nightly. Just swim towards the noise, the memories aren't real, it isn't real, it isn't real. Yet, no matter how many times she had found herself stranded in the depths of the oceans of her memories, she had still not learned how to navigate the waters to become instantly victorious. Remilla, in her grandmotherly tone, used to tell her that it just took practice; how much practice could she possibly have before things became easy, before she could drag herself free upon first try?
She shuddered a few more times, the tears still brimming in her eyes. Of all of the traumas that the feline held upon her shoulders, this was the hardest for her to shake. Of course, Abrine had not been the first life she had taken, nor would it be the last. But her sister's had always been the hardest. It had been a quick death - by that time, she had become proficient at slicing open the throat of those who had crossed her. She had grown used to the slight nausea that resided in her stomach, as well as the intoxicating power that left her drunk on the legacy she was supposed to further. But, Abrine had been the only family member she had ever laid her own paws on, and her littermate's voice still haunted her. It was different, even if she couldn't articulate why.
"The blood, I have to wash off the blood," she meowed suddenly, as if the spell of her nightmare had finally been cracked by the feeling of the tom's tongue against her forehead, something she otherwise would never have allowed. Even though she trusted Levee with whatever parts of her were still able to trust, every touch that crossed her skin lit her spine on fire, or at least, it would if she was in the right state of mind. She had tried to unlearn it, tried to unlearn flinching away from embraces, and for the most part, she had been wildly unsuccessful. Other things had been easier for her: re-learning boundaries, learning to contain the anger that burned at her core like a wildfire.
She looked at her paws, and began to scrub them together. It hurt; her paws often ended up raw after a few nights of nightmares, and she hadn't had a restful sleep in what felt like weeks. "Levee, help me get the blood off... I have to get the blood off..." Of course, there was no blood on her paws, and her night terror had been from a time far before this moment, but that was hard for her to grasp. She often would settle almost immediately after she finished her task, whatever her nightmares compelled her to do. But that took time, and it was probably just as effective to smack her a few times to get her to refocus.
