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.
As hard as Vulturemalice tried, as wondrous as he was with bones and sinew and as deftly as he massaged it, without proper treatment Doe's paw was never going to get better, was only going to get worse and worse and worse until he couldn't use it at all. When he was younger, he would have taken that consequence, would have forsaken his paw with a waspish, defiant smile-sneer if it meant he didn't have to bow to his own destructive stubbornness. But he was older now. He had children, a tom he was afraid to believe might finally be the one, a life. He had Sunpetal and Rosethorn and Shadedsun to care for and watch over, had Crow's return and the overthrow of their conquerors to wait for on long, sleepless days when he quietly seethed whilst SummerClan tossed and turned and struggled to sleep around him. Some were angry; some were turncoats ready to submit; Doefreckle was willing to play the long con, all his nerves taut with quiet patience and bitter hatred.
And he couldn't do that if the fresh fracture in his paw became infected. So, in the early hours just before dawn, when the rest of the sleep-deprived Clan was nodding off halfway through sharing tongues or eating dinner (breakfast?) in the camp before they could even stumble to their dens and the NightClan guards were watching over them sharp-eyed and wide awake, Doe limped through the maze of fatigued bodies to the medicine den. The stars were just beginning to fade and blink out in the inky, blue-black sky and the first of the birds were just beginning to sing, faint and eerily dreamy. It was a cold, cold night. The shift in sleep schedule was easier for Doe - it was his natural schedule, after all, and his eyes were better suited to a life in the dark anyway - but even he looked weary, his gaze slipping foggily to the ground again and again no matter how insolent he tried to keep it. It was likely more fatigue from staying in a heightened state of stress for so long, though. Stormstar had become an unexpected complication and another source of confused distress, but he wasn't ready to think about him that night; he hadn't yet decided on the painful, guilty path of using him for SummerClan's gain. He stopped just before he brushed into the dark medicine den. The burning agony in his paw that had kept him awake day after day had given way to numbness. He was trying to push down the sickness of concern that roiled in his gut. He didn't want to be permanently lame, not more than he already was. There was no choice but to swallow his pride and ask for the mercy of the tom who had slit Ratstar's throat.
Finally, drawing in a silent, unsteady breath, Doe reluctantly called out in a quiet voice, "Pinesimmer?" Not waiting for an answer, he flattened his ears and pushed through the dangling stems to the nearly pitch-black den within. He shook them from his head, blinking around in the close, quiet dark.
"Are you dying?" Pinesimmer's blunt voice answered Doefreckle in an instant, and he just barely turned his head to peer at the SummerClan tom, recognizing his voice from their brief meeting. "If you are, I suppose that's too bad for you, isn't it?"
Aspenstar didn't particularly want him to do much healing. And in fact, the tom was far more intent on bleeding the clan for all it's herbs, every last pretty flower or plant that could be carted off to NightClan. The medicine cat was tall and lanky, but almost handsome in a 'I am anything but good for you' way, which was endearing to some... and not to others.
She wasn't here on the daily to survey NightClan 2, so that meant he was freer than anyone probably liked for Pinesimmer to be. Bad for them, great for him.
"Oh, how nice," Doe replied with a prim sort of bite, briefly abandoning his sweet act. "The medicine den has been turned into a comedy show with a headliner who isn't funny. It's cute that you think you are." Not waiting to be invited in and not letting himself be dissuaded by the tom's disinterest in helping him, he limped in and flopped down at the side of the den, still fastidiously neat and dignified despite the pain. The smell of NightClan was already beginning to overpower the sweetness of SummerClan. Doe couldn't help the way his nose wrinkled in a slight sneer, his tail-tip pointedly flicking a scrap of herb that the intruding medicine cat had yet to clean up.
"My paw is broken," he told Pinesimmer in a dead, hooded-eyed drawl, clearly as unimpressed to be in the den as the medicine cat was to have him in it. He hated talking about his greatest vulnerability, especially with a tom like this, and so he tried to sound like it didn't bother him at all, like he would talk about this with anyone. But the grate in his voice showed it for the facade it was. "It has been for some time. But now it's worse. I would appreciate it if you would fix it." He wasn't going to say please. He'd rather lose his paw than give Pinesimmer that.
As if to make some unknown point, Pinesimmer ungracefully snatched the now-floating herb Doefreckle had flicked and simply tore it up, letting the shreds fall down where they may. "Puh-lease, wannabe beauty queen. If you're going to attempt an insult, at least have the decency to make it sting a little. If you're trying to take the crown from Eshek, you need the looks and the talent, and clearly you got neither." As far as the medicine cat was aware, Doefreckle would likely have no clue who he was talking about. Or to only vaguely know her as the Primal Instinct Proxy. Pine had no idea just how wrong he was in that moment.
"Regarding your paw, I suppose that's called the consequences of your actions. Think of it as a learning experience. If you're think you'll survive the blood loss, I can amputate. Permanent solution, and you won't need to worry about running anywhere anytime soon either." He quipped flippantly.
Doe stared huge-eyed at the herb Pinesimmer decimated in mid-air, watching it flutter down in tattered little scraps; it was a moment of genuine comedy, just him staring and dumbfounded into silence by the shock of it, thrown off his game, and Pinesimmer looking all casually gloat-y. It was honestly kind of hot, he thought, and then immediately shredded the horrifying idea; he wasn't going to think about how oddly attractive the medicine cat looked in the dark, not when he was the most obnoxious tom he'd possibly ever met. But he just wasn't used to someone not being intimidated by him, or at least a little swept up - to have Pinesimmer dismiss him so immediately was enough to bring him fully into the moment, all his attention now inside the dark, close den. "Uh-" He tried to regain his composure, giving his head a little shake and briefly squeezing his eyes shut. Pinesimmer offered him the perfect way out.
Eshek. Doefreckle groaned. "Oh, don't tell me you're her mate - I always knew she had terrible taste but you'd have to be the lowest one yet." Doe's expression was genuinely upset by the news, like he'd just been told she'd had a death in the family or lost another litter of kits, his ears slightly back in sympathy. He slumped his head down heavily to rest his muzzle on his paws like he was defeated. He hadn't spoken to his apprenticehood friend in months, didn't know she'd had anything to do with Pinesimmer's banishment-slash-assignment to SummerClan, but if she was seeing him then he'd have to flip their usual script and get on her ass about her choice of partners for a change. She was like a stupid child.
And then the medicine cat was talking about his paw. "You know, you're the second nutcase to suggest amputation in the last week or so - something in the air for psychopaths?" He tilted his head, coy and innocent. "But an invader lecturing me on consequences of actions? That's a little ironic. Please, Pinesimmer, tell me more about justice. Cause and effect. When do you think they'll catch up to you? I hope I'll be there to see it." He swiped his tongue around his muzzle, the picture of nasty purity.
It was honestly a little bit of a relief, to finally have a NightClan cat who wasn't keeping up the charade of their presence being good for SummerClan. Pinesimmer was aware they were there for violence and exploitation, and to hear him all but admit it made Doe feel like he could finally let go of a vindicated breath he'd been holding since the takeover. Finally, some honesty, however sharp the teeth that said it.
"You're really not doing my perception of your intellect any favors here." Pinesimmer mused, seemingly pleased by Doe's dumbfounded expression. It was curious that Eshek knew this tom, and for a moment he felt a prickle of jealousy, but it dissipated quickly enough. Mostly because the tom didn't seem to be talking with her as if he were dating her. Which made this meeting more interesting all the same. "I'm stuck here because my 'dearest' sister decided it was a great idea to pick a fight with Eshek, failed miserably, and decided it was all my fault after Phantomfox nearly murdered our pregnant Proxy queen." There was a genuine hatred in his voice when speaking the name of Aspenstar's current mate. "Guilty or not, I get blamed, may as well have fun if I'm going to be tortured and mauled for it anyway, hmm?" Pine flashed a deranged smile. "You just happen to be my sort of fun. Consider it an honor."
Doe didn't know what to say to that. Eshek was even more stupid than he thought she was - he was alarmed to hear she'd been in such danger, but relieved that she seemed to be alright. Going up against a leader; what had she been thinking? "Well," he replied at last, trying to regain his air of haughty indifference. He almost made a sour joke about him sounding humiliatingly in love with our pregnant Proxy queen, but he refrained. "I can't say I'm sorry to hear your sister was harmed, but I am regretful that it means we're stuck with you. 'S'pose it means that you're just as much a prisoner as we are, though. Poor unwanted medicine cat." He tilted his head, pouting sympathetically with a mockery that dripped from him like syrup. "Must be so sad to be kicked out of the royal family. What are you now, servant-level? How princes fall when they're never going to be king." After a moment, Doe smiled, his eyes squinted slightly as he looked up at Pinesimmer in a bold, silent challenge. He drew his tail around, flicking the tip once like he was putting a single chalk mark next to his name on the tally board.
At the tom's deranged smile, Doe held back a shiver, quirking his brows disdainfully instead. "Fun?" he echoed blandly, like there was no possible fun someone like him, the dregs of society, could offer someone like him. "Don't take this the wrong way, Pinesimmer, but if I wanted fun, I could get a dozen toms far more tasteful than you. Now." He stretched out his paw, done with this little game and now giving an order. "Paw. Fix." His eyes didn't leave the medicine cat's, daring and swimming with a thousand fiery, unspoken little tests and provocations. He was going to come out of this on top.
Post by Honeystorm on Oct 15, 2021 15:48:26 GMT -5
Pinesimmer grabbed Doe's paw not-so-lightly, twisting it in what was probably an agonizing way as he laid his claws against the joint. Doefreckle's paw was warm in his as Pine gave it a slight squeeze, "So you've decided to go for the amputation then?" The Medicine Cat purred, digging a single claw in. "Oh, and I'd stop making assumptions like you know anything. It's pitiful at best, and I'm not so sure you're in the place to be calling the shots here. Consider your next words carefully."
What a silly idea, handing the cat who'd killed Ratstar your paw after he'd already said he'd amputate. And now here Doefreckle was, trapped, with the decision to either get in line or lose a limb. Or, at the very least, damage it more, which would only increase the risk of permanent damage.
The wonderful thing about his paw being numb was that he couldn’t feel the burn of it being twisted, or the prickle of the medicine cat’s claw. No matter the damage it was doing without him being able to feel it - he heard the sick crunch of bone that had become so familiar to him - that knowledge gave him a dark thrill of power. Blood could be drawn and he wouldn’t scream; for once, though he usually so longed for that ignominy, the complete lack of control that Pinesimmer had over him made his stomach fizz with euphoria. He almost laughed. His paw was always his weakness; well, not tonight. For once in his life, not tonight. Doe smiled up at Pinesimmer, tilting his head. His pupils were blown and black. He didn’t respond to his threats, brushing them off like irritating cobwebs — instead:
“What was it like?” he asked, his voice low and slightly hungry in the dark, barely more than a rich whisper so clear, so candid, but for the enthralled quiver around the edges. This voice, with no one but a psychopath around to hear him, wasn’t one anyone outside this close, silent den had ever heard. It belonged to the Doefreckle who never made it past the sweet smile and the soft eyes. “To tear open his throat and feel the blood?”
Doefreckle didn't respond to pain, but that didn't mean Pinesimmer didn't still have an upper paw. Perhaps because he was still holding onto the other tom's and pulled Doe close, mere inches from his own face. "Would you like a demonstration?" He asked in a whisper, his claws crawling up the former leader's leg like spiders, inching for Doe's throat. "Why hear me tell you, when you can see it for yourself, from Ratstar's perspective?"
Doe shivered, and no one in the world could have mistaken it for fear. Pinesimmer's breath was warm on his face, his eyes so black and glistening in the darkness, his paw heavy against his own even if he couldn't feel it; Doe's chest was grazed slightly from being dragged forward slightly across the den floor and the medicine cat's claws were maddeningly ticklish as they prickled up his leg, so infuriatingly harmless when he wanted to see the first little specks of blood. He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to kiss the other tom, but he didn't.
"I quite like being alive," he whispered back, and his voice shook slightly. If he'd gotten his lives from StarClan, maybe he'd have indulged the macabre desire to see what it was like to be killed by his claws. And if he were a little weaker, a little less resolved to continue along the good path he was on, maybe he'd have wanted Pinesimmer to stand at his side and show him how to kill someone. That was what he secretly desired the feeling of, just to see what it was like. "And I don't think your sister would be happy about you going on a killing spree in her new colony." He drifted his good paw up and brushed Pinesimmer's claws away from his throat, lightly pinning the medicine cat's paw to the ground.
