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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Honeyotter was usually in high spirits, but the last few days had seen a cloud of festering rage forming around him in the place that his lust for life usually occupied. His thin pelt wasn't designed for the cold, and as if that wasn't enough to put somebody in a bad mood in the depths of winter, his clanmates conveniently seemed to be busy hunting anytime he wanted to play a prank or entice a partner in some worthwhile hijinks. Clearly, this was a sign that they were all conspiring behind his back and had nothing to do with how the prey was running. Maybe I should just go and join DayClan, I bet they know how to have fun there, he thought with a frown as he stalked across the camp, so entrenched in his resentment that he did not notice any of his other clanmates until he slammed into a wall of fur. "Hey! Watch where you're going, dirt-for-brains," he snapped, ignoring the fact that he was very much the one that was not watching where he was going.
Dirt-for-brains wasn't the worst insult he'd ever received but the captain of the loyal guard was also known for his short fuse and volatile tendencies, and when he turned around to confront the instigator, his silver gaze was solid and impenetrable. "Wanna say that again?" Phantomfox towered over most and if his size didn't deter his foes, his scarred features usually worked handedly for that cause, the twisted scars turned white in the washed-out moonshine.
A smarter cat would have backed down and lived to be grumpy another day. Honeyotter, unfortunately, was not particularly known for either his intelligence or his humility. The ginger tom drew himself up to Phantomfox's chin with a confidence that he should not have felt given the situation. "Watch. Where. You're. Going. Dirt. For. Brains," he growled slowly, taking the time to enunciate every syllable. Phantomfox had asked him to repeat himself, after all. He wouldn't want the larger tom to misunderstand.
The enunciation was not lost on him...unfortunately for Honeyotter. "You're going to regret that," he snarled, and he grabbed the smaller cat by the scruff of his neck and shook him in a very ragdoll-like manner, waiting until he was decently disoriented before he tossed him aside. He stalked to where the now dazed Honeyotter was splayed out and gave him one last opportunity to wisen up for once in his too-short life. "You've got one last opportunity to wisen up for once in your too-short life," he threatened.
Whatever big ideas Honeyotter had about how the fight was going to go, a brief glorious image of him standing bloody but victorious over Phantomfox's unconscious body flashing through his head for a split second, they were thoroughly shattered as he was picked up as easily as a kit and flung aside. The air was knocked out of Honeyotter's lungs as he hit the ground, his mouth filling with blood as he bit his cheek in the impact. But again, it was turning out that Honeyotter was not in fact very wise at all. "Maybe if I didn't have to look at your too-ugly face," he growled through blood, scrambling back to his feet but swaying unsteadily on his paws.
As quickly as Honeyotter righted himself, he was pushed down faster than a stack of dominoes. "You won't have too look at it for much longer," spat the guard, slashing his claws at the other tom's eyes, narrowly missing the optics but scoring several wounds above that bled into his periphery.
Honeyotter's yelp of pain was cut short as the force of the blow served to knock his head backwards into the ground, and the image of Phantomfox standing over him dissolved into blackness as he was knocked out. The blood from both his mouth and face dripped into an ugly red pool around his head. Any onlooker would have been forgiven for thinking that the unconscious tom was dead. He would live to die another day, though - three days later, to be exact, when he would finally fulfill his true destiny of eternally haunting Mountain.
