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.
roll: die (killed by an enemy cat) i figured disrespecting sunclan was probably the quickest way to get murdered around here
It was very possible Honeyotter had sustained some sort of brain damage in his recent altercation with Phantomfox, because if he had been thinking clearly he would have steered clear of SunClan’s borders. NightClan’s neighbors were not exactly friendly. As it was, with an ugly half-healed wound marring one side of his head and the unpleasant stink of SunClan lingering in his nose, he hunted a squirrel he had found sitting next to the border, barely even noticing that the final leap he took to catch it put his forepaws over the line into enemy territory.
With a look of disgust, the ginger tabby wrinkled his nose at the scent of the border markings, which only seemed to be getting stinkier by the second. “I bet the Sun God smells as bad as his followers do,” he said.
"You more stinky than Sun God." Mountain frowned as he approached the tom, overhearing his words. That wasn't very nice. No cat was supposed to slander their god, even though he was dead. Last time Mountain checked, anyway. He didn't think dead cats usually came back, but someone told him this one would.
Honeyotter had not learned his lesson about insulting cats who were bigger and stronger than him from tangling with Phantomfox. In fact, the headache he had been enduring ever since then seemed to have made him both dumber and angrier. "Not if he smells anything like you," he retorted.
His broad face fell and the large tom looked genuinely hurt. He smelled fine, right? He didn't clean himself very often, but that was because he didn't need to. Mountain lowered his head a little and sniffed deeply. No, he couldn't smell anything wrong, only the normal scents: his own musky scent, a bit of blood and prey-smells from his latest catch, some dirt.
"Liar!" Mountain cried then, his head jerking up. "You lie, I smell good!" He sprang toward Honeyotter and shoved his face against the enemy's with a great noisy inhale.
For a moment Honeyotter felt a sense of satisfaction as Mountain's face fell. He was opening his mouth to drive the knife in further when Mountain sprang towards him, and he jerked backwards, almost losing his balance (he definitely had some kind of concussion, it was all woof 's Phantomfox's fault). Fur bristling, he growled, "You smell like somebody left their prey out to rot in the sun and then made dirt on it! I smell like a real warrior!"
The puny warrior was already off-balance, so now Mountain lunged to finish the job. The massive tom slammed into Honeyotter and thrust him down onto the ground, crushing his body beneath the initiate's own. He growled into his face, a thread of saliva creeping down the side of his jaws, "take it back!"
Previous events had proved that Honeyotter did not have a concept of the appropriate time to take things back, but even if he had suddenly experienced a flash of wisdom in the face of imminent pain he would not get a chance. His head slammed back against the ground as Mountain took him down, too much force for his already compromised brain to withstand. He was dead before Mountain's drool dripped onto his face.
Mountain was just going to have to live with the knowledge that he was stinky. Maybe Honeyotter's ghost would show up to remind him sometimes.
We need an authority figure... heck I am an authority figure // Springclan Deputy
1,189 posts
Post by Nova on Feb 10, 2021 18:20:53 GMT -5
“Mountain! Hello?” Weed had wondered where her friend had gone. It was getting dark and she had started to get a bit worried about him. But he was easy to spot and she quickly trotted over to him. “There you are, I was wondering...” The tortoiseshell initiate paused as she looked down at the body of the cat at his paws.
“... Sun god give me strength...” She muttered as she dragged a paw over her face. “Not again...” Cleaver
Mountain looked at his friend and then down at the body. Hm. She had been unhappy last time he accidentally punted someone deep into flames and watched them burn. Would this make her mad too?
"It was accident!" he insisted immediately. "I just put him on ground!"
We need an authority figure... heck I am an authority figure // Springclan Deputy
1,189 posts
Post by Nova on Feb 10, 2021 20:34:24 GMT -5
"Yes, but Mountain, when you put people in the ground they never get back up..." Weed sighed as she started inspecting the body. A Nightclan cat. "Well... he was on our borders so.. we can just say it was a border skirmish gone wrong..." The tortoiseshell muttered
