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.
( Open to all SunClan kits, and kits captured by SunClan! )
Unlike most kits, those in SunClan were confined to the territory, but not technically to camp. Generally, they'd get in trouble if they didn't let a warrior know where they were going, however. Today was different. It wasn't just a group of one or two kits having some fun exploring, but the entirety of SunClan's kits, both young and old, including those taken from DayClan and SpringClan! They were in the fields outside of camp today, near to the river that fed into the gorge camp where the SunClan cats resided. A few warriors hovered around to ensure no one ended up drowning, or was being too troublesome, but otherwise, the kits were given free reign to do whatever they wanted.
It was a particularly chilly day, and snow covered the ground, about a paw's depth, powdery and light. Already, the white flakes flew in the air as kits tumbled about in the substance many of them were discovering for the very first time, shrill laughter and raucous giggles piercing the wintry air.
Junkkit, an older kit of the clan, multicolored white and brown tabby with black stripes, his minty green eyes were alight with insane glee as he gazed at the assortment of items laid on fern branches he'd collected from around the burial grounds. The dirty tom's voice rose into the air, calling for anyone who might dare to come near and buy his junk. "Come one, come all, and see what I have for sale!" Spread before him were items of various sizes and appearances. A few random twoleg items that might have been toys or jewelry, but were most often broken or lacking the shine they'd once had, a collection of pretty rocks, some of which appeared quite sharp, some prey, feathers, even a few snowballs he'd made! Really, it was a bunch of junk, but he was proud of that junk.
The kitten had no specified currency that he wanted. Really, he would trade what he thought was fair with whatever the other kits could bring him, which he would then turn around and pawn off to others who wanted it. He got more junk, they got more junk, it seemed like a great time!
Over Junkkit's shoulder towered Roadkit, and intimidating Siamese tom. He stood many inches taller than most of the kits in the nursery, and most assumed he was already an apprentice due to his muscular frame. His cold blue eyes flickered from cat to cat, daring one of the other kits to try to take advantage of his little brother Junkkit.
The two of them made an odd pair, and yet they were rarely ever seen one without the other. His claws dug into the dirt, not enjoying the uneeded attention that Junkkit was drawing to himself. Didn't he realize that someone might want to steal his treasures instead of trading for them. He huffed, a little cloud puff emerging from his lips due to the cold
