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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Eveninglily's gaze focused on the other side of the border. She had sat here every day for the last week, staring absently across the border. There was a great big world out there, wasn't there, and Eveninglily was stuck... stuck in a place that had once been peaceful and then had suddenly become the antithesis of that. She had never seen harm on the scale that NightClan had inflicted harm. She'd never seen a cat die. She'd floated through the world innocently only for that innocence to be absolutely shattered by cats bathed in the dark. She hadn't been the same since they had came. Even now that things were once again under control, she couldn't help but wonder when things would come falling down around her. The war crimes she had witnessed had shaken her to her core, and now, even with NightClan gone, she felt herself deeply paranoid. There was a part of her that felt badly that she hadn't communicated this to anyone, instead withdrawing deeply into herself. But, who would she have even talked to? Each of them had seen their own worst nightmare, how was it her right to add to anyone elses pain? So instead, she had retreated into the space behind her ribcage. Maybe it was better for her to just leave. She'd been debating it, disappearing and getting... away. Didn't she have relatives in SwiftClan? Or maybe she could just wander....
Or maybe, she'd sit right there on the border, debating her options.
Nightclan's invasion had not been the first time Shadedsun had been involved in a forceful occupation, and the only difference was that he was not truly alone the second time, and that he couldn't feel guilty for not leaving when he had the chance since he'd never had the chance with Nightclan. He expected their freedom to be a celebration, a new beginning, but instead he was left with a bitter, sour taste in his mouth. He wasn't partial towards the new leader, nor was he a fan of Doefreckle's exile. He felt incredibly alone, isolated, because just as he was trying to make a home, everything that helped him do that was sent away. So, aimlessly, he wandered their territory, and everything was a little reminder, every little winter flower he uprooted, every stone he kicked over the swiftly melting ice. And every time he passed the Springclan border, he wondered if he should cross it. Despite the numerous changes in leadership, Summerclan had always been Doe's.
Shadedsun wasn't as loud as he had once been, and neither did he try to force some level of positivity like he once did. Perhaps it was because it wasn't expected of him. His large shape closed in on a feline he didn't know was there yet, and he nearly passed her before he stopped, seemed to notice the heavy presence of another. He wasn't in an incredibly sociable mood, but something drew him to stop, and so, quietly, he moved a little closer, head turned towards the land beyond. He debated what he should say. Her feelings draped around them both like a heavy blanket, and maybe they were also weighted by his own.
"Unsure?" It was said in the typical, 'I'm staring a conversation now' type of voice, but it was soft, almost a welcoming thing, like he understood.
Eveninglily found herself jumping at the tom's words. At one point, she hadn't been so easily startled, but the feline hadn't known a moment of peace since the night NightClan attacked. The moment before they attacked was the last moment the she-cat knew peace. She craved to go back to those days, the days of being the carefree hippy daughter of the deputy. She wanted to not be so fearful, wanted the sound of other cats not to strike anxiety into her gaze, but it did.
Her head snapped in his direction and she quickly realized that it was Shadedsun. Although the two had never formally interacted before, she was quite certain that he wasn't a danger. "Oh," she meowed, trying to regain her composure a little bit. It was then that she realized that she'd been caught staring, caught wondering if the world out there was better, was safer. Embarassment replaced the moment of panic, and she let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. What was she supposed to tell him? That she was debating leaving the clan for greener pastures, if greener pastures even existed? SummerClan was supposed to be the greenest of pastures, what was even to say what she was looking for was even out there?
The young feline sighed, trying to center herself. "I... guess you could say that," she meowed sheepishly, refusing to meet his eye. "I just... things aren't the same anymore, and sometimes I wonder if..." Her voice trailed. What did she wonder?
He missed the time he could approach his clanmates like it was nothing, without the ache of anxiety in his stomach or the slight feeling of his heart in his throat. Still, he gave a soft, quick hum of acknowledgement at her words. He didn't look towards her, and perhaps it would have been rude, but he had a slight feeling that she wouldn't mind. He didn't edge her to continue, let the words hang in case she wanted to continue and settle if she didn't, though he did nod.
"I get that feeling — and I'm going to be honest, I don't think it will be. But that doesn't mean it can't be good, right?" He turned, let his eyes rest on her blurred shape for only a moment before moving on, back in towards Summerclan.
He gave a brief half smile, "I'm sure we can figure it out; a walk?" An invitation, an offering, "I've been having trouble finding my way around recently, must be a jogged memory or something," he was totally lying through his teeth, but who could deny a simple distraction? Besides, nobody would really deny a blind tom a guide, he'd learned that, "oh, and I'm looking for rosemary — mine wilted, and I think it's a nice fashion statement." He'd never been one for standing idly, the lack of motion always made him feel awkward and out of place, much like how he felt now, much like how Eveninglily felt.
That doesn't mean it can't be good. At one point, the words would have made the she-cat feel better. It would have been what Crow told her. He would have touched his nose to her forehead and told her that it could be alright. A sadness coursed through her; even more than she wanted her life to go back the way it was, she wanted her dad. She'd been one of the ones to stumble on his blood. The smell of the NightClan leader had rung clear in the air, but his body wasn't there. Had he limped in the forest, only to die alone? Was he still out there somewhere? Eveninglily didn't know; all she knew was there was a crater in her chest that felt like it could only be filled by paternal support.
She blinked the feeling away, trying to offer a smile. It wasn't really a smile though, at least not one that the once airy feline was known for producing. Even as she tried to hide her emotions, the pain twisted the corners of her lips down. "I hope so. SummerClan deserves more than this." Her voice trailed a bit at the end.
At the mention of a walk, the young she-cat's ears perked. Relief washed across her gaze - yes, doing anything but sitting at this border would be better than gazing longingly over it with company. "That would be lovely," she meowed quietly. "I know just the place," she then continued, turning slightly in an attempt to get as far away from the border as quickly as possible. "Fashion statement?" she then asked, her curiosity piqued. She knew flower crowns weren't uncommon in SummerClan, but rosemary?
He could only nod solemnly, and though he didn't see her grimace, there was something so outwardly upset about her. He had always been a perceptive cat even if he didn't put it to good use, even if he disregarded it sometimes, even if it felt like ignoring something would make it go away. He guessed Eveninglily would have done something like that, wilt away at the border until she either decided to cross her haul herself back home, left to think another day, left it all to time. As they began to move, he tried to put on a more cheerful demeanour.
"Yep," he replied simply, cheerfully. He didn't voice any of his real reasons out loud — it hid the smell of death, and since he came back to life he'd been so incredibly self-conscious about that, it reminded him of Doefreckle, and he was petty. It had grown on him since the Gathering. "Is it too bold? We can throw something nice in there. I was told I looked good in pink." It may have sounded almost conceited coming from anyone else, but he gave a shrug, a full-cheeked, small grin that quickly morphed into something akin to realization. He slowed slightly, enough to let Eveninglily lead the way just as he had been previously, because he wasn't supposed to be well versed in Summerclan's territory right now.
She wished it wasn't like this. She wanted to go back to the days before her whole life had gone up in smoke around her. She had always been a floaty personality, one who spoke to trees and named caterpillars because they were important to! Things were so much easier then, before the weight of the world was placed on her shoulders. It was the only reason she stayed in SummerClan, honestly, the memory that at one time, she had felt at one with everything here. At one time, the meadows had made her happy. If she left, she was giving up on the hope that one day they would make her happy again. But if she stayed? Perhaps that was worse, the sting of salt in an unhealed wound.
She was relieved that he didn't respond.
"Oh!" she meowed in surprise. "No, I don't think it's too bold," she quickly meowed. "I didn't mean that at all. But, for what its worth, I think whoever told you that is correct," she meowed, a soft smile flicking at the corners of her lips. "I believe the helibores ought to be in bloom by now," had it already been a year since the last? "I think a small one would be very fitting."
She passed the tom, but only by a few steps. She had always prefered to walk side by side with others. When she was asked why in her youth, she had laughed and mumbled something about dismantling hierarchy and establishing a comraderie rooted in true egalitarianism. Cats learned quickly why they shouldn't ask her why she did what she did. It was easier to just think she was weird.
"What had brought you to the border?" she asked as they walked, her gaze trained on the path in front of them.
At one point, he had been a beacon, almost. Optimistic in times of suffering, trying to encourage his clan, trying to adjust to his old position, trying to rebuild them even when he wasn't so sure himself. It had come so easy then, and perhaps it was because he tried to push everything else away, focus on everyone else before he focused on himself. He could understand, because once he had found joy in Springclan's waterfalls and blossoms and old gardens, and now he looked across their border from afar, only regretful.
No, I don't think it's too bold. He nodded along, agreeing with whatever it was she said because, well, certainly he had no place to decline. Truthfully, when he first moved to Summerclan just weeks before his death, he hadn't given himself time to get to know their fauna, and he certainly never spent much time across the border before he lost his sight. He almost felt guilty now that he would never know their true beauty. Strangely, he felt himself missing the familiarity of his old home. But now wasn't the time for that. He brightened his smile when she went on ahead, keeping his pace slow, relaxed.
What had brought you to the border? He thought for a moment, gave a shrug at first before he decided to continue, "got a little crowded, you know?" Summerclan was possibly the least crowded place, with their wide expanse of moors and fields and trickling streams, and yet he still felt almost claustrophobic, like the borders had sprouted walls and they were closing in. He could have said something like just checking them out, but that would be a lie — he was testing his limits with it, seeing how long he could sit there and wait to for his paws to carry him over, except it never came and he always ended up turning away. He would give it time, though some would call it stalling. If he was sitting around the Springclan border, he was thinking about home, and if he was pacing around the rogue lands or the thunderpath, he was hoping, despite how fleeting it was, that perhaps Doefreckle would appear, wandering in the same way he was. More than once he had thought about going after him himself, but the Gathering had sated him, if only slightly. His mistrust of the League was still strong, an old, gaping wound that had never had a chance to heal because he hadn't let it.
"What about you?" He could already assume, because he was in that position, he had been in that position, and yet he felt the need to ask anyway.
"I get that," she meowed with a nod. Even if there weren't ninety cats running around the camp, there were moments that if she didn't get out of camp, she felt like she was going to suffocate. Between the soft chatter of cats recovering from their scars and the pitying look that she got more often than not, the walls seemed to cave in more frequently for Eveninglily than not. "It can be a... lot sometimes." She let out an awkward laugh as they walked, slowly closing the distance to the meadow.
When he returned her question, she flinched slightly. Oh, right, if she didn't want to explain herself, she probably shouldn't have asked him to do the same. She let out a soft sigh, one that carried the weight of the world in it. "That's a complicated question," she admitted in a hum. "I guess for sort of the same reason as you. I needed to clear my head, and cats don't often come out this way between patrols." This was partially true, the borderland did provide for a quiet place to think. "I've got a lot on my mind, and if one more cat tells me they're sorry for what I went through, I might just have to scream. Out here, at least I can avoid the looks they give me." Although this was true, it wasn't the full truth. The full truth was hard for her to sit with, would cause her to admit her challenged loyalty, would cause her to sit with the fact that there was a part of her, no matter how small, that wanted to be anywhere but here, realized that she might never return to the hippy princess she had once been known to be.
"We're getting close," she then meowed. "Shouldn't take us much longer to get to the meadow from here. It's nice this time of year."
