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.
In a time when royalty was reserved not just for the clan of snow and frozen hearts, but for a clan surrounded by little rivers and strict ideals, an affair of the most unconventional and controversial variety took place between none other than such a clan's young commander, a Tsarina, and her dvoryane, a nobleman who would have never caught her eye than otherwise this happenstance. While the affair remained in the shadows, vowed to never be spoken of, what resulted from such weakness was two young children. Both of them were cared for as best as a queen could care for such young ones when they were a mistake, one that she tried very hard to forget, save for the moments in which she gazed into their soft, sweet faces.
As the children grew, however, her distant love grew all the more strained and sharp. The eldest, a black tom who held all the grace of nobility and was trained from a young age to see the world through the eyes of the far more privileged, while having only known his queen as his parent, had also been gifted the smallest of opportunities for true, unveiled paternal love in the form of the queen's not often attended to brother. Through his uncle, he learned what genuine compassion, care, and devotion could be, and through such action sparked a longing for more of this savage, brutal love that his mother denounced after each and every visit from his uncle.
While he was not raised to succeed the throne upon his mother's wishes or spent his childhood days in the lush home of their lands, he grew to find the place that his mother had raised them in – the best luxury she could find with what she had at her disposal – as not only home, but his domain. However, that all changed on one fateful day, when his mother revealed to him a piece of information that ultimately would not only drive the wedge between them deeper, but result in the complete shattering of what thin, weak bond they had.
Sterling. It was an unfamiliar name – for an instant, the black tom questioned if it was a title, rather than a surname – yet his mother had been adamant, even in her despondent distance once the small group who had spent their time interrogating her had passed on. He was a Sterling. Not a true heir to her royal lineage; a blot on her otherwise perfect history as Tsarina of BrookClan. Nobility, and yet moreso due to his connection to the Sterlings rather than because he was brought into the world by the Tsarina of their clan. His sister had taken the news far better than he had; for, upon her birth, she was raised moreso by himself than by their mother. To leave Loki E'Clair's side and travel to find those who he believed to be far more family – the Sterlings – than she was merely common sense. His sister at his side was by luck, as the fates would have it; she was dedicated to he, not to the she-cat who raised them, and that loyalty led them to the life they had shared for the last several moons before stumbling upon an escort that would lead them to DayClan where, perhaps, they would find answers and much more in these Sterlings.
His sister worried, as she often did; fretting over whether they would be turned away by family they hardly knew of, let alone experienced beforehand.
Yet the black tom, as he sat on the border waiting to be greeted by the family he claimed to hail from, merely sat with his rigid, trained posture, eyes fixed ahead, chin high, and settled his tail subtly on his sister's smaller back in an effort to reassure her – and keep her quiet. Only time would tell.
As it so happened, Darcy lucked out because Honey decided not to want to make him run two seconds into the thread. Of course, the appearance of the she-cat in question who showed up was likely... not what the tom would hope to associate with the Sterling family. Spring was a heavily scarred she-cat, golden furred, golden eyed, slim and a bit anxious looking. Of course, unbeknowst to him, this was his cousin, or, if one counted reincarnations, his grandmother. But that was another story for another time.
"You can just come right in. DayClan doesn't mind so long as you're not hunting or causing trouble." Spring pulled up to the pair of cats, a small mouse crawling down from her head, a seed in it's mouth as it leisurely left the feline behind, off to wherever it was meant to go.
Standing quickly upon the she-cat's appearance, the black tom's glass blue eyes traveled along her golden coat. Though he would never be one to break composure in front of anyone, most especially in front of a stranger, and above all, in front of the opposite gender, the black tom felt what could only be called with the utmost subtlety a twitch to his left eye as he observed a mouse – prey, a weaker species, bottom of the food chain – skitter about atop this she-cat as though it were the dominant, she the species to be played with and made sustenance for the other. It grated on his nerves as it was, though he was far too experienced to allow such emotion even remotely dawn on his expression.
The tom glanced to his little sister before seeming to steady himself by looking down at his chest and ensuring every hair was laid flat, before clearing his throat and taking a step forward, partially convinced he would be leapt upon as soon as he did so, uncertain if after the impression the she-cat opposite him had given was waiting for the chance to sneak an attack.
"Miss," he started with a rumble, bowing his head, "I have come to ask an audience of the Sterlings. I learned from a passing traveler they reside here."
He wasn't entirely certain where to move from here; was he to follow her to their camp, where he would be presented with them? Would they meet him out here? He had never before been greeted so informally by another, let alone one he wasn't familiar with, and it was plain respect and manner to meet another at a location of neutrality. To simply waltz into another's domain without express direct permission was unheard of.
Spring blinking, looking a bit confused. Sterlings, that was a name that hadn't been said in a while. An ancestor of hers, now a last name no longer used since the BrookClan days, which were before her time. "They do, I guess." She answered, not entirely seeming certain of her words, but not for the reason he might suspect. It was more so that she hadn't ever called herself a Sterling, so the idea felt foreign to her. "Why are you looking for them?"
