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!
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.
Innocentia's had a long day and at this point wanted to lie on a rock and die peacefully. Mainly because she had run more than she had her entire life whether it was chasing other people or being chased. Both of which were fun, but the fun only lasted so long for a cat with tiny legs trekking across entire territories at some points. She let out a huff of air and curled up next to a large stone. She just didn't have the energy to climb it. Nothing. Nothing could possibly make her not want to sleep. Except for the fact that she was wide awake, her mind didn't want to relax with the rest of her body so she found herself curled up beside a tall stone in the hollow/ camp her yellow eyes peering around. At this point she gave up on sleep and glanced about to see who was stalking about in camp.
Illya peered over the side of the stone he was resting on. The grey tom had been busy not doing anything, and boy it was exhausting to pretend to do nothing. He dangled his front paws over the edge extending his claws as he stretched. Slowly he melted off the rock and pooled in front of Innocentia. His lithe frame looked over the small white creature he felt he could not exactly call a cat. He never really knew what to make of Innocentia and even less so now that she was just an average hunter. So instead of speaking to her, he just stared at her with his flame-colored eyes.
There were two types of league cats, the killers and the psychos. Differentiating the two was as hard as differentiating a crocodile from an alligator having never seen either before. However she knew the types of beasts in the league well. It was the small things, the way a cat smiled, the way they took pleasure in pain, how they concealed certain emotions. Often it was about what wasn't said that distinguished murderer from psycho. But this cat. This cat was just a weirdo.
"What?"
Her voice was high like a kittens with the kind of demanding, authoritative tone one would expect from a proxy with a British accent. It wasn't like getting stared at was odd, most knew she ate cats and wondered if they'd wake up finding her eating them. Or perhaps wondered why and how she was ever proxy. But this cat had the gull to stare straight into her yellow moon shaped eyes. Perhaps on a normal day she'd consider giving him something to look at, but she was tired and more than anything hungry.
“I’m just watching you. You’re know as a cannibal, but that’s not who you are. I’m trying to learn that.” Illya frowned slightly as he finished speaking. He was getting soft, soon he would be picking flowers and reciting poetry, or whatever it was that SpringClan did. In all honesty he was curious about Innocentia, she was a former shaman’s daughter and a former proxy. Part of him was curious how Bera hadn’t seen her as a threat. She was alarmingly innocent looking and yet she could take down a massive cat. It was rather impressive. He had no desire to watch her eat another cat, no more than he wanted to watch a cat eat a mouse.
Innocentia snuggled up against the stone until she was comfortable. She looked like a kittypet that belonged on a rug next to a roaring fireplace, not in the hollow on rugged terrain. Her soft fur and pink bow looked almost too fragile to spend time in a place like the league. Her yellow gaze flicked up towards Illya, "They say identity is all about the people around you and what you are. You know, the whole nature verses nurture debate. I like to think we're born a certain way and we don't want to admit to ourselves that we're aligned with a certain fate when we're born. That it's only rare opportunities that change us maybe three, four times in a life time. I suppose if you tell me something about yourself I'll reflect the question back at myself and answer it. Quid pro quo, they call it."
