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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His whiskers twitched slightly after he considered his assignment. Well, it wasn't really an assignment. No one told him to do it. But, he had heard the rumors that the tom had been depressed, and he'd noticed it too, so Pastelchaos was going to intervene. It was his duty.
"Peachblush, ainnit?" Although they'd seen each other in passing Pastelchaos was sure, this was their first proper introduction. "You look like you've been kicked by a badger right in your kidney, and it's about time someone changed that." The small tom puffed his chest out. "Lucky for you, I'm on the job. Name's Pastelchaos, pleasure to be at your service."
Peachblush was sprawled out over several nests in the warriors' den, staring into empty space with wide, still eyes. It was a hard trek from DayClan to SwiftClan's current camp, and he was trying to get his circadian rhythm back into shape. Of course, it had been two weeks since he'd arrived back in SwiftClan--but like he'd said, it was a hard trek.
"That's no way to talk to a Clanmate," he muttered, but he couldn't muster up the energy to feel anything more than vague irritation over it. "What's this job you're rambling about? I'm not...buying anything or whatever, if you're one of those traders who won't stop showing up."
He let out a mrrow of laughter at the idea. "That would be a much better gig than this one," he admitted with a shrug. "Anyways, you've been taking up too much space in the den, acting particularly like you just got told your pet rock was dying, clearly and obviously signs of depression, but I'm gonna whip you into shape." He was a peculiar tom, it was becoming quite clear. "I'm going to whip you right into shape and put some pep in that depress-ed step." His whiskers twitched. "Come on, look alive!"
With that, the tom whizzed past him, very clearly expecting Peachblush to follow,
Peachblush laid in his nest like a lump of concrete as Pastelchaos zipped away. He considered his options--option one was to follow Pastelchaos and doom himself for a day of torment, and option two was to just not move and hope the other tom just sort of forgot about him. Peachblush knew what option he preferred right away.
He sat there with his thoughts for a few more moments, Pastelchaos's words echoing in the back of his mind. You're taking up too much space in the den, he'd said. Peachblush squinted. Did Pastelchaos think he was gaining weight?
"...Wait," he called out, heaving himself up onto unsteady paws. It took a herculean amount of effort, as if his legs were tied down with rocks. "You're not taking me to...I don't know, huff the fumes in the mooncreek or whatever?"
Pastelchaos knew that eventually, the tom would be intrigued enough to follow him. After all, he had spent precisely four days covertly spying on him to ensure that he approached Peachblush at the exact right time.... Well, he'd just not admit that to Peachblush if he asked, right? When he heard the tom follow, he let out a purr. That was almost faster than he had expected.
"Although I hear the fumes are just absolutely lovely," he purred, "this time of year, 'fraid not. I heard that you like to play games." He hadn't, this was a bold face lie. But, everyone liked to play games, right? He could probably safely bet. "Rules of the game are simple. Get to the other side of the not -so-clearing. You get thirty seconds of a head start and then it becomes tag. If you get tagged we enter a bonus round and you probably odn't want to do that if we're bein' honest with each other."
"I actually don't really like playing games and I have no idea where you got that idea from, but okay," Peachblush said. He stretched his back, hissing and just barely stifling a curse when it cracked audibly. "Can I negotiate some more time on the head start? In this condition I'm not entirely sure I won't just snap in two before I get to the other side."
Pastelchaos narrowed his eyes. First, the tom didn't like playing games, and then he wanted to adjust the rules? It seemed like Pastelchaos would have his paws full today. "By the sound of your back, it almost feels like we should send you to the meddy instead of playing," he admitted with a shrug. "Oh well, no time for that." He then let out a sigh. "I guess we can negotiate time. What are ya thinkin, old man? Ten minutes of head start?"
"I wouldn't be opposed to a trip to the medicine cat den right now," Peachblush muttered under his breath, before raising his voice back up to a normal volume. (He would ignore the old man comment. Peachblush knew he had good genes.) "I was thinking fifteen, but I suppose I can work with ten. And it starts right now. Off I go." Without much pep in his step at all, Peachblush began to walk to the other side of the not-so-clearing.
Pastelchaos let out a mrrow of laughter as the tom took off. He had no intention of waiting an entire ten minutes, or really more than eighteen seconds, to start going after Peachblush, but the other tom didn't need to know that, right? Still, he waited for the tom to at least get out of paw length before he followed.
When Peachblush was far enough away that Pastelchaos couldn't easily reach him, but close enough to still hear, Pastelchaos spoke again. "First obstacle: see the pebbles on the ground ?" There were probably forty, which had taken the tom most of the night to collect. "Weave through them and don't touch them. If ya touch them, I'll tackle you probably."
Peachblush looked down at the pebbles and made a strangled, vaguely disgusted noise. "I thought you were supposed to be making me less depressed?"
He considered just walking around the pebbles rather than weaving through all of them, but Pastelchaos was giving him psycho vibes, and he didn't want to incur the tom's wrath more than he already had. This thing looked like it had taken way too much time to set up, after all. "I feel worse about myself," he declared, weaving through the rocks.
Psycho vibes was a good way to describe the uncontrolled energy that he gave off. He was a wild child, and it was one of his many favorite parts about him. Life was so drab without a little excitement.
"Look," he meowed, slowly closing the distance between the two without making it impossible for Peachblush to successfully weave, "a wise old man once told me that the most sure fire way to cure depression is to get some good old fashion excersize. Get your heart pumpin' 'er somethin. But, if you'd rather, we could go to a nice field of flowers and talk about our dreams and how pretty the sky is today. Your choice, champ."
"....Could we?" Peachblush asked, gazing wistfully off into the distance. "I used to live in a nice field of flowers, you know. Did a lot of talking about our dreams and the sky. That was all we did. It was nice. So relaxing." He fixed Pastelchaos with a cold stare. "I'm doing your damned stone-weaving exercise. You can't ask me to also enjoy it."
that was the most serious peachblush has ever been and it was about depression exercise
