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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Snowblister had never been so far into the caves before, though they had always intrigued her. Usually, she never ventured far from camp, save for the time she had stuffed the body of her mother into a small crevice far off, in the tunnel of entrances that seemingly lead to nowhere or, if you were lucky, right back where you started. It was easy to get lost, and yet that served a critical advantage if Nightclan were ever ambushed. The walls all looked the same, it was painfully silent, the smell of salt and stone and dust made it difficult to discern anything, and it was much too dark for anybody except the nocturnal clans. Exits littered the place, you just had to search tediously for them. In some places, the walls towered, the stalagmites stood tall and imposing, and in others, the ceiling felt suffocating, too close. She loved the atmosphere, and yet something about it had always made her wary, despite her curiosity. The thought of wandering aimless, lost, unaware, left only to her own thoughts and the tricks her mind liked to play on her. Surely she would go mad. Still, she found herself wandering anyway, only the sound of her own pawsteps and the echo of others. She assumed it was her own. Maybe her interest had gotten the better of her; maybe her self-destruction drove her into losing herself.
Peering into a particularly dark tunnel, the walls thin and tall, she paused. And only after a moment did she move, going further into the tunnel until it opened up into a circular cave, rocks and other natural structures littered around. It seemed unstable, the ground wet, the roof cracked with dry mud and stone, and residue was falling from it, similar to the tunnel that had led her here. If there was another exit, she didn't see it, except when she turned to leave, she was met with a force. A small, weak little force, one she had had less than pleasurable experiences with, one she would almost consider a friend in a strange sort of way.
"Kier." She spoke quietly, squinting down at him, brows lowering in a slightly confused look.
"WATCH IT!" Kier snapped, jumping back and frantically brushing himself down — as if he hadn't been the one following her, suspicious and increasingly distrustful of her activities. Paranoid, one might say. "YES?" he continued, still flustered and angry about being caught, about the way she was looking at him, ears pinned back and eyes accusing, "I AM KIER." He seemed to realise how stupid and defensive he sounded. "What?" he finally hissed, like it was entirely her fault she'd inconvenienced him, like she had been the one to put herself in the way of where he'd been walking. He'd hoped he could slink about behind her and not be noticed — and now, instead, he looked guilty of something. Worse, he looked like an idiot. Worse, he looked like he cared. Oh, he hated her.
He opened his mouth to speak — but no words came out. His eyes flicked to the ceiling. There was a low rumble, far away and deep in the stone; and then, quickly, it grew louder. The cavern began to shake; dust rained from the ceiling and coated both their pelts; Kier stumbled — and then, suddenly, a great, groaning clamour came from behind him. He looked over his shoulder just as the roof over the entryway collapsed and sent huge rocks and debris crashing down to the earthen floor. It quickly filled it in. "No, no, no," Kier wailed amid all the noise, because this meant...
They were caved in.
They were stuck in here with each other.
Together.
The stones settled, the last of the dust sprinkled down, and then it was quiet.
"Oh, EEEEXCELLENT work, Snowblister," Kier joked nastily, turning on her. "Really marvellous. Look what you've done now. Traipsing about down here — what were you even doing?"
don't mind that i forgot to bookmark this oh my god
Snowblister watched as he fumbled, face deadpan, though her whiskers twitched with amusement, like she was resisting the urge to laugh. It was stranger than anything how interested in her expedition he seemed to be to follow her all the way out here, where the tunnels narrowed and grew unstable, for nothing other than . . . curiosity? She wouldn't have offered the same courtesy to him. She was less phased then him at his appearance, staring Kier down with the same scowling, demanding look, a question that would have remained silent had she not decided to speak, "me watch it? You're kidding. What are you doing following me around?" Pushing him aside to make her exit, too tired to want to deal with whatever oddness he put forth, she slowed as the walls grumbled. As dust rained down, she glanced upwards, towards the roof and then towards their exit, and before she could do anything more the roof caved, the ground shaking with it. Snow backed away quickly, stumbling back into Kier in her attempt to avoid being crushed by stray rocks or another collapse.
The air finally fell quiet. She turned to Kier, "me? You were the one slithering around. What I was doing is none of your business! I don't ask what you do in your free time because I don't care to." She jabbed him with a rough, pale paw and stalked past into the openness of the cavern, mumbling under her breath, "out of everyone it had to be him, didn't it?"
"I don't slither," Kier snapped, but it sounded strangely defensive. When she jabbed him, he stumbled slightly backwards, caught off balance, and growled high in his throat, his lips twitching slightly from the vibrations. He turned to watch her as she stalked close past him. "It's every bit my business. You get to tout your superiority over all of them, but you're always going to be under me. We have all these wonderful new rules now but don't think for a second that they apply to you in any way other than pretence. Those starved idiots can think you're special and important," his voice was sneering now, a clear sign that he was feeling uneasy about something and had to put her back in her place; he slunk up behind her as she inspected the collapse, creeping along with his head down and his shoulder fur slightly bristled, "but you're not. You can be put up for trial just as easily as any of them." He spat the last word and spun away from her, sounding strangely upset. He was in a decidedly bad mood. "And I don't have any free time," he snapped after a few seconds of silent, ruffled pacing. "In the event that I did, however, it would be a little more fulfilling than skulking around in these," he struck the back of his paw against one of the stone walls, "grimy tunnels. I pity you, Snowblister, I really do."
Out of everyone it had to be him, didn't it? "I can hear you," he growled, stalking back to her, but there was no threat in his voice. "You all like to comment on my ears and then forget I can actually use them. Move aside." Not waiting for her to obey, he shoved against her legs to get a better look at the damage of the collapse. "What would you know about structural integrity?" he muttered bitterly as he peered at the crumbled rocks, touching and sniffing at them with equal parts ginger, experimental hesitancy and arrogance, because even though he knew nothing, as a she-cat she knew less.
I don't slither. She blinked down at him, unbelieving, frown deepening before it suddenly dissipated, as if his little threats had cheered her up. "Here's the funny thing, Kier — they don't apply to me. What would you do without me?" She laughed, ending it with a wistful sigh, "I don't suppose you'd do as well. Those lackeys of yours are only following you because they're scared, not because they care."
Snowblister examined her surroundings as best she could, stepping up onto a small, smooth platform and upturning pebbles and snooping around just for curiosities sake. She didn't expect to find anything, truthfully she was only keeping her paws busy so they wouldn't coincidentally find themselves around Kier's throat. Even then, it was pointless to physically threaten him. The blood oath kept them away from each other, if only barely. While he inspected the wreckage, she was trailing the walls of the cavern, peering behind pillars and stalagmites until, after looking behind a particularly tall column, she found a small, dark tunnel. Low to the ground, a tight squeeze for Snow and a walk in the park for Kier.
She didn't say anything immediately, moving on without a word just in case there was anything else, anything better, but her search was fruitless. As far as she could tell, the cave was mainly closed off. "Kier," she spoke, voice echoing, as she moved back towards the tunnel she had first found, "stop staring at the rubble like a fool and come look at this exit I found."
"Those lackeys of yours are only following you— I don't need them to care!" he snapped, breaking off from his mimicry of Snowblister that was less perfect than it usually was and more just insulting, too pointedly feminine, his eyes dreamy and his head lolling this way and that like there was nothing between his ears but gossip and tea parties. Fear was all he wanted - all he'd ever wanted. If it had started to feel less like power and more like empty loneliness, if the satisfaction of it had started to peel away into grey, isolated monotony, then that was just the price of being king. It was still enough. It was more than enough.
When she finally left him alone, his tail-tip continued to flick from side to side; despite this brief relief, she wasn't gone. And when she said his name - which, really, it strangely bothered him; it felt like there ought to have been some title she called him instead, like Kier was too personal, too brazen; he'd work on that, because if there was any time to really go for things, it was now - he looked up and back over his shoulder. If the blood oath didn't keep him safe from Snowblister's actual claws, he would have condemned it entirely; all it did was give her the fearlessness to talk to him however she liked. As he padded over to her, there was a growl in his throat, his head down and his eyes looking up at her with a silent warning. But he knew - and the inevitability of this was both a draining, thrashing outrage and, much as he denied it and to his own indignation, a source of constancy; no one else dared speak out against him anymore - it would do no good. He dragged his eyes from her to peer down the tunnel. "Well," he replied at last, and it was some semblance of 'finely found.'
Slipping into the darkness, slick as an eel, he padded a few steps into the black - and then suddenly wheeled around and, snapping one paw up, dislodged a large, heavy rock from the soil. The last thing Snowblister would have seen was Kier's wide-eyed, delighted face - "ah! Goodbye, my dear!" - and then the space between them was swallowed up by raining earth and the rock. Alone in the darkness with the cold, howling air of the tunnel stretching out behind him, Kier tittered. He didn't really think it would hold her off, or that she wouldn't find another way out; purposefully forsaking her to death in the cavern was too close to breaching the terms of the blood oath. But it was a perfect lark, and at least he was free of her for a minute or two. Turning, Kier practically skipped down the tunnel.
