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.
Between NightClan and the world, there's a bridge.
You could follow the curve of the earth, saunter through the shadows and hazard the trolls' lair in the deep woods, to climb cautiously up through the pine forest to the distant hilltop; or you could cross the bridge: a faster, but not necessarily safer, route. It hung high above the valley and swayed dangerously in the open air, and the planks stretching across it bent and creaked underfoot, bowing under even slight weight. Certain death, hungry and eager, waited for the careless, ready to consume the souls released from the broken bodies scattered in the overgrowth.
Shadowpike yanked a paw back to the safety of his chest with a hiss. Typically, he took the forest path across- and had worn a faint trail through the brush in doing so- but getting away from camp, despite his obedient servitude, and the watchful gazes of Kier and Snowblister had taken longer than he could afford, which left him hurried and frantic. The moon was a silhouette against an indigo sky, the stars hidden behind wispy cloud trails; a moonless, starless night, so that both clan and spirits were blind to his treason. That was the agreement that would keep him safe.
But Sunstar's liason wouldn't wait forever. They would wait until half after moonhigh.
Trembling, both from the adrenaline fizzing through him and the clock ticking away his time, Shadowpike dared another step forward, though when the board groaned, it wasn't the one beneath his paw. "Careful," he warned without turning, the words an impatient growl. He forced it out before he went on, "The wood is old and rotted. You probably shouldn't come across unless you have a death wish."
(pike gets caught trying to relay news to summerclan, but is the cat an ally hoping to start change or an enemy prepared to turn him in and gain favor in nc? c;)
Tigerlily stared at the toms back and could only huff a laugh, "a death wish is only one of the many wishes I hold. Whether it's granted now as this bridge collapses under us or later matters little." Her pale eyes watched the tom who seemed to be heading away from their territory instead of back. Curious, but it didn't take much to make the logical conclusion that he was off to meet someone. Someone he shouldn't be, that was clear enough.
"It could just as easily be granted later tonight if you cross this bridge and I make no attempt to stop you." In truth Tigerlily didn't want to stop him, for all her sycophant behavior she hated Kier and feared Snowblister. Her bargain with them was for her own sanity, selfish at it's core and something she regarded with perhaps not quite regret but a deep well of shame.
Already she wished she had chosen a different path for her night wanderings, wished she had faced her nightmares boldly instead of letting them chase her from her nest. "You must understand Shadowpike, we've already encountered each other here. A secret can be a promise, but it can also be a prison. And I've had enough of prisons."
So it was Tigerlily, huh? He didn't bother to turn his head; with her pelt blacker than the wicked sky, all he would be greeted with would be the blue of her eyes, as haunted as these hallowed woods. He simply remained motionless, the only stir the wind in his pelt. "It seems so futile, doesn't it?" His laugh was an empty, bitter sound. "We could die here," he agreed somberly, "and hope the fall kills us. It'd be a terrible way to go out, but better than to wait for help that never comes should we survive with snapped spines, unable to move, at the whim of Mother Nature herself to take us home." Would the elements take them first, while the scavengers hovered and crackled with hungered anticipation? Or would they be consumed long before by a lucky predator?
And then there was the second option. "Or do I let you march me back to camp, use my dishonor to boost your own standing? Best case scenario, you're the executioner. Worst case, if no one believes you're a good samaritan keeping order in Kier's NightClan, you'll be executed right after me, killed in my still-wet blood."
Shadowpike considered the options as the bridge continued to sway, leaning his weight forward on the plank. It cracked in response. It'd be painlessly easy to break a few before she could pursue, and if she went to report to Kier, it'd be too late to apprehend him. Yet he didn't. Despite the ease, despite all the horrors and evils infecting the very heart of the clan, despite that his mission here was to gain intel and keep his head low, he was planting roots here. There were cats he cared for now, cats he desired to protect, cats he couldn't abandon.
"So, what will it be Tigerlily? Will you die trying to escape imprisonment or will you die for a cause?"
Her words flowed pretty and decorative and she wondered if he realized how much like Kier he sounded to her in the moment. Kier with his impossible choices he laid in front of her like they were easy stepping stones to go where she wanted. She hated choices, she was so sick and tired of making decisions that would either ruin her or get her one small step closer out of the pit Nightclan had become.
Despite all that she knew that if she brought him to Nightclan it didn't matter if he was doing anything or not; an execution was and execution in Kiers eyes, the reasons didn't matter. A cat dead was a message sent to the rest who might be having disobedient ideas. There was no fear in her that she might be second on the block, unlike himself she had no one in her heart except what little care she managed to scrap up for herself.
"There is a third option I suppose, one you so easily overlooked." She pointed out voice devoid of any emotion and eyes blank as she watched him sway with the bridge. Likely he hadn't stated it because it held more weigh if she put the choice on the table. "I walk away and speak nothing of this encounter. We pretend it never happened; still never speaking to one another in camp and I hope you don't doom us both."