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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The dusty brown tom padded toward the clan border, taking a deep sniff of the markers there before his expression slipped into a frown. He had encountered borders before, but this one had far more scents than the loner had encountered before. This was a big group of cats here, but that didn't discourage him; instead, feeling interested, he sat down and tucked his tail around his paws, waiting for someone to come find him here.
The she-cat who happened upon him, while a loyal member of the clan of blossoms and petrichor, had always been far more seen as a staple at the side of her beloved than as singularly devoted to her clan, like their medicine cat was. While she loved SpringClan dearly, both her clanmates – and she – knew that, should anything happen to her beloved or herself, directly or indirectly, she would turn her back on them as quickly as she would turn her back on anyone who dare threaten her or her home. While this made some cautious of her, there were others who understood; often, those were the ones that didn't hail from SpringClan by birth, but rather chose the flower enriched land and group as their home.
Zidian tilted her head and gazed at the tom who sat so neatly and expectantly at the border. Part of her wanted to go against his desire for someone to approach and give him the attention he appeared to be waiting for. She only ever listened to – and adhered to – the wishes of her beloved. However, her curiosity got the best of her, a trait that at times caused a spark of conflict between she and her beloved, and she padded forward from the shadows.
"Who are you?" Despite her soft appearance – when she wanted to be – she could be hard and swift, sharp and cunning, like the lightning strike of a whip. Assuming this demeanor wasn't difficult for her; particularly when her home was being surveyed by an outsider. "And why are you here?"
As the she-cat presented herself and padded his way, the tom pricked his ears and adopted an affable smile. "My name is Roo," he replied, "and I'm a traveler passing by. I scented the markers you've left at this border, so I stopped to offer a hello. If you have a warm nest to spare, I thought I might stop by and spend the night with your friends. Share some food and swap some stories."
Roo looked neatly up and down her, his curiosity evident. Up close, the tom was average height, with a dark hickory mask that swept to fawn and lighter browns upon his spine before fading to cream on his chest. His dense coat was short and smooth, undisturbed by scars, though he did not look to be a young cat either: the lines of his face suggested he must be the age of a senior warrior.
Zidian arched a brow quizzically. Or perhaps in judgement. Considering her personality, that of her family, and her beloved, it could’ve been a mix of both. She wondered, idly in the back of her mind as she felt a rising and fierce no from the deepest parts of her soul, what life must be like for those who come by food in abundance. Or trust, for that matter. He was familiar with marked borders, which indicated he at least had some knowledge of the ways of the clans, but was he a half-wit in believing they would offer him sanctuary or telling her so in order to hide an ulterior motive? While Zidian was born and raised in SpringClan, her parents had been cross-clan lovers. Through their stories, and the stories from her beloved about his brother, she knew the world to be a conniving, untrustworthy, brutal place. She wasn’t about to jeopardize the lives of her clanmates due to naivety.
“Of course. You are welcome as a guest of SpringClan,” she dipped her head and turned, saying through her body language that he was clear to step through and follow her, though she remained cautious, ever ready to attack should he peel away the mask and reveal a monster underneath. “Where have you traveled from?”
Roo smiled, rising to his paws as she turned away from him. He offered her his thanks as he fell in step behind her. He didn't walk like a warrior: they were balanced, fluid, and ready to spring, filled with caution, while he placed his weight more heavily on his paws and let the sticks crunch beneath. His steps were careful, but only to protect his soft pads from any dangerous thorns lying upon his path, and not out of any concern for the noise he might make.
"Thank you. I look forward to meeting your friends, we're going to have ourselves a fun night. Maybe play some games after those stories, if ya'll want to, of course. As for where I'm from, I'm afraid I don't know." Roo chuckled, warm and rusty. "I don't know the names of most places around here. I can tell you my home had a high wooden fence around it, and if you perched on the top, you could see where the forest began down the alley, and if you followed the path long enough it led you in this direction."
Zidian blinked, glancing back at him. Perhaps she’d assumed his nature prematurely. Though he at first talked as though he was familiar with the clans and their unique way of life, the further he progressed the conversation on their trek back to the camp, the less she felt he was an enemy spy and more of a hopeless fool.
“You come from a twoleg nest?” She offered, tone coolly neutral. She didn’t want to express too much interest, lest he turn out the beast she still thought him to be, but she began to wonder if perhaps he was just as harmless as he portrayed himself.
“My friends and I don’t play games. We used to hold seasonal celebrations, but… it has been some time since we have seen any such event.” Her gaze grew sad. Even though she came off as cold, calculating, sharp, and wickedly cunning to strangers and even those within SpringClan who didn’t know her well; or devoted, hopelessly in love, and fiercely protective of her beloved; she was also greatly fond of the celebrations the cherry blossom adorned clan once hosted and the fun they used to get up to. She missed it all terribly, for back then, she believed the celebrations and activities were enough to get even her stony faced, serious sweetheart to smile.
“Were you not afraid to approach an unknown border and ask for sanctuary from the first soul who happened upon you?” She wondered aloud.
His ears twitched, amused by the terminology she used. "Twolegs are your name for housefolk?" he inquired. "You cats come up with such funny names. But yes; I lived with my 'twolegs' until I departed a moon or two ago." Roo cast a glance to the sky as if he expected the moon to correct his time frame, but when there was no answer, he went on. "It was a real nice place, don't get me wrong. Always warm, great places to sleep, and the housefolk liked to cuddle." He arched his back, remembering their affectionate touch. "Really nice place."
He shook his head then, chuckling at his own tangent. "Well, it is just a shame that you don't hold such celebrations anymore, but I am honored to be your guest tonight. I will do my best to be good company." Roo did not think that would be so difficult; the mild tom was hard to offend and would be polite to every stranger he met tonight, even if they did not trust him. He wasn't here to make enemies.
"Well, fear is a silly thing when you think about it," he mused. "Say you did not let me come back with you. I would be a little hurt," he smiled, "but a bit of bruised pride isn't worth fearing, is it? Why should I be afraid when it worked out so splendidly?"
She wrinkled her nose at what he described as 'a real nice place'; it didn't seem nice to her. She didn't want some nasty twoleg getting its hands on her, no sir. She shook herself a bit to rid herself of the image.
"You're different," she commented offhandedly, mostly to herself than to him, expression thoughtful. "Most of the non-clan cats I've met always look at us like we're going to eat them." She scoffed.
"They just don't know what they're missing. I always say, don't let fear of the bees scare you away from the hive. You clan cats seem mighty fine." Zidian was the first clan cat Roo had met, but he liked her. She was forward, and she certainly did not seem on the verge of eating him. He thought they would get along mighty fine.
Zidian blinked at the bizarre metaphor and couldn't stop her tongue from relinquishing the question she'd been trying to hold back.
"'Don't let fear of the bees scare you away from the hive'? I've never known a cat to go after a bee hive. Seems to be more risk than it's worth." She sized him up with a raised brow. "Are you telling me you're the type to stick your paw in a hive and not mind getting stung just to get coated in some sticky, smelly goop?"
She pointedly ignored the compliment, if it was one, about her not, in fact, being a monster. Though it had warmed her heart for a moment, she had quickly stifled the emotion and reminded herself that even though this stranger may not see her as a beast, he didn't know her, and those that did were quick to point out that she hadn't a single speck of sunshine or rainbow to offer.
Roo chuckled. "Why, you just haven't tasted honey yet. Delicious stuff, even if it is sticky. Why do you think the bees guard it so closely?" He smiled at her as he went on, "but I haven't stuck my paw into many hives. My housefolk did that for me, and they'd spread out the honey on one of their little eatin' dishes. I'd swipe some once they were done with the rest of the food, never seemed to bother them much."
Zidian found herself gazing at him with a slight gape, as though he had managed to grow three more heads while he had been telling her about the memory, but by the time he had finished speaking, she had found a small smile growing on her face. Though it seemed odd, and her stomach personally writhed in discomfort at the idea of eating something so bizarre, she also found herself oddly enchanted by how fondly he spoke of it all.
“Well, I hope you find our sanctuary a little bit like the home you left,” she found herself saying with a small smile, wincing at the reminder of the twolegs, “though without a few… components.” She admitted. The two padded into the camp, she inwardly hoping they wouldn’t happen upon Madame Ziyuan while making their way to Jetstar’s den.
"Thank you, that's very kind," Roo purred, his gaze twinkling. She was just as friendly as he hoped, and he was looking forward to proving her right. A bunch of cats living together would be different than living with twolegs, but he was certain he'd find elements of home in her sanctuary. Every home had the same small parts, right? They were just in a different arrangement.
The brown tom slipped through the camp entrance at her side, his head tilted back to examine the area with open appreciation. They only made it a few steps in before a silver tabby looked up from where she lay grooming her coat and narrowed her eyes.
"Well now, you did you bring in here?" Havenspark questioned sharply.
Her once open and friendly expression shuttered and shattered, revealing the mask of indifference and frost. “This is Roo, he’s requested an audience with Jetstar. He may be spending some time with us should all go well.” Her eyes narrowed. “Would you like to waste my time with any other methods, Havenspark?”
The bengal glanced over at the loner at her side and nodded her head to the side, gesturing towards the leader’s den across the way. “I’ll introduce you, then the rest is up to you.”
"Hi," the tom greeted, with a friendly smile that was not returned.
Havenspark's lips tightened at the rebuke. "I hope you know what you're doing," she replied. "Jetstar won't like it if you've brought an enemy into our midst." She eyed the tom with mistrust, but stepped back, allowing them to pass unchallenged.
Roo's roaming gaze fell upon the den and he blinked at it. He hadn't seen a nest like this before. He knew it would be different from his twoleg nest, not nearly so comfortable, and it was fancier than the tree he'd awkwardly slept in last night, but it was simple and unimpressive. Well now, he scolded himself, don't judge it before you try it.
"Well, that would be fantastic," the loner replied cheerfully, turning back to his companion. "You said her name is Jetstar? Is she friendly?"
"Ah..." Zidian glanced at Havenspark out of the corner of her eye, "... in a way." She admitted, wincing slightly. "It depends on what mood she's in when you approach her."
The she-cat stopped outside the leader's den and tilted her head. "There are times when she's been rather cold and aloof towards me and times when she's been very warm. It all depends on how her day started."
