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.
Her head hurt from a day's travel. Well, it ... normally hurt, it seemed, but it also seemed that it hurt worse now. Maybe that's because it had been - she paused to glance at the sky - two days since she'd consumed water and another two beyond that since she had eaten. The kitty had fallen under some dire straights, it seemed. Which meant when she finally saw an opportunity, a water source of FallClan's, she couldn't help but stop. She was leaned down over the water when she heard a voice.... Cleaver
The short calico apprentice stood stiff-legged across the water from the she-cat, her green eyes narrow. “You’re on FallClan territory! You can’t be here or drink here.” Her father has taught her early on that they had to defend their land from all intruders. One wrong word and she’d shred this one!
She pulled away from the water, a single brow raised. "Well, it looks like I am, and last I checked, there was no monopoly on the world's water resources," she retorted, although her voice was nice and gravely. The Shaman blinked her vacant eyes - she wasn't even sure why she was here, but since she was, she wasn't going to let some pipsqueak bully her.
“You’re wrong! This is our territory, we have a mon-op-holy,” she insisted, sounding out the word. She has no idea what it meant, but Sorrelpaw was pretty sure they had whatever it was. It was their water!
“You have to drink from somewhere else. The river runs outside our borders. Try there. See? I helped you, now you help me.”
Looking just as unimpressed as ever, the Shaman shook her head. "No, I think I'm quite satisfied here. Doesn't your... code," there was a faint distaste in her voice when she said it, "provide safe travels for healers? Forcing me to die of dehydration isn't very safe travels of you, mm?"
Sorrelpaw frowned, her hackles falling. “It does say that….” she trailed off, uncertain. “But how do I know you’re a healer? Tell me something only a healer would know.” She would stand her ground!
Charlotte sighed deeply. Something only a healer would know? Charlotte didn't know much a healer would know, it was half the problem Primal Instinct had with her. "Well, if your foot was broken, I'd probably use coltsfoot. Good enough for you, kid? The League is a little far away for me to have someone confirm my identity."
Hm. Sorrelpaw considered. She did know the name of that herb, though she didn’t know if that was actually the right use, or how to treat a broken paw at all. But she sounded confident, so she couldn’t question her answer either.
“Okay, I trust you for now,” she replied suspiciously, “but I’m keeping an eye on you! What are you doing all the way here?” She sat down, calm, attentive, curious. “Are you really form the League?”
