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.
Howlingheart looked out at the small display he had created. It had been something that he picked up after his sister died, small floral arrangements to decorate. This time, he placed the ring of flowers in front of the tree that he and Foxpaw had always sat in. When he was particularly stressed, he liked to do this, to honor his sister as if she was still alive. Yet, to the outside, it could perhaps be considered strange behavior...
Brittlefrost had been out hunting all morning, her paws sore and claws shredded from chasing a rabbit down it's burrow. It was so plump, she hadn't wanted to let it escape. Her silver tabby fur was covered in dirt and debris from underground, bits of leaves and dried grass from the rabbits nest clinging to her fur. Despite the effort it took in getting it, the rabbit was now her prize. Her neck ached from holding up the weight as she dragged it along, the carcass almost as big as she was.
Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, she looked up and spotted Howlingheart not far off, surrounded by flowers. She watched him curiously, her sea storm colored eyes wide with questions. A small, unsure frown pulled down her lips. She didn't want to disturb him, but she was also curious at what his little ritual was. Before she had a chance to make up her mind, the wind shifted and blew from behind her, carrying her scent and that of the rabbit right towards the tom.
He had been clearly focused on his work, but not too focused that he didn't notice the scent on the wind. Quickly, he straightened his back and pulled away from the woven flowers, his gaze alert. Even alert, though, his eyes were just a tiny bit sad. He scanned the area around him, before his gaze settled on Brittlefrost. The two had never interacted before, but Howlingheart guessed this wasn't unlikely; he didn't really have many friends these days. That's what happened when you lost your best friend young.
"Oh, uh, hi there," he meowed awkwardly, shifting so that he was obscuring her view from the flowers. Although all of SummerClan was gorgeous, some cats didn't take too kindly to his decorations, thinking that they were a waste of time. Howlingheart didn't, though. They were some of the only things that could put his mind at ease. "Awful big catch you got there," he meowed, trying to offer her a smile.
Brittlefrost gave a small dip of her head in a greeting, suddenly feeling bashful about the state of her appearance. At Howlingheart's praise, the gave a small chuckle, looking over her shoulder at her dusty pelt. "It took a lot to get it, that's for sure," she meowed, tail waving happily behind her. She sat down, raising a paw and chewing at a clump of grass stuck between her claws. "I don't see how you gardener's put up with this," Brittlefrost said through the side of her mouth as she work on her paw.
Pausing for a moment, she looked past him at the flowers he had arranged. "It's pretty though."
He smiled at her, although his smiles had stopped reaching his eyes a long time ago. "I was never very good at that," he admitted with a sheepish shrug. "Guess that's why they put me as a garden keeper, huh?" Really, his origins in the position were a little more... complicated than that. He had originally trained as a warrior, until his sister's death. That had scarred him, and seeing her scarred corpse made the tom very ill at the thought of ever fighting again. He then let out a soft noise, close to a laugh. "You get used to the grass. Takes a while though."
He then followed her gaze, his ears tilting backwards slightly in embarassment. "Oh, this? It calms me down to make them. Learned a long time ago. Something to do with your paws, ya know?"
She nodded slowly, understanding what he meant. “It’s a nice skill to have,” she reassured him, offering the tomcat a small smile. “Plus you get to watch something grow and flourish. It must be very rewarding”
He nodded. His social skills weren't particularly great; perhaps that was what happened when you went silent for months and only just began to start speaking again. But, he was making an effort, even if it was awkward. "Maybe I could show you the basics?" he asked, his head tipped slightly.
Her paw was still halfway in her mouth when the tom spoke again, the skin of her frayed claw clutched between two teeth. Howlingheart's offered brought a smile to her face, causing the she-cat to nod enthusiastically. "I would love that!" Brittlefrost replied, jumping to her paws and giving her tail a wave. Nothing had excited her this much in a while, besides the ever changing yet always the same ocean.
Howlingheart offered a small smile, his head dipping slightly. It had been a while since anyone had been excited to do much of anything with him, something that his own self-isolation was at least partially at fault for. This cat's eagerness reminded him of Foxpaw, though. He couldn't help but smile. "What are your favorite colors? We will have to collect flowers from the garden," he mewed, he himself standing.
Looking around the great green expanse around them, Brittlefrost couldn't help but look back at the churning stormy blue that was the sea. She was always told that her eyes reflected the color, but she could never see it.
"Blue," is what she told him, still looking down to the south and at the rolling waves. "It's always been blue."
He smiled at her with a nod. "An excellent choice," he replied, before nodding for her to follow. "I know the perfect flower to start with. They are small, so they can be harder to work with, but the end product is very pretty." This was more than he'd spoken in a long time, it seemed, but if there was one thing he could talk about, it was flowers. "Have you ever seen them? Forget me nots?"
Trotting after the tom, she kept close and listened. Blue was a hard color to find in flowers, so she was surprised to hear his answer. "There are blue flowers?" Brittlefrost exclaimed, her ears and tail shooting up.
"They can be hard to find," he admitted, "but after working in the garden long enough, you start to learn the best places for plants to grow." With that, he started moving towards the outskirts of the garden, his paws pattering across the earth in a steady motion. "Sometimes, they look more purple, but I'd call them blue."
Casting her gaze around, Brittlefrost realized she could see the dark blue heads of flowers bobbing in the breeze around them, hidden amongst the royal and lavender colors of the purple petals. "They're beautiful," she said with a small sigh, her tail curling up happily.
