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.
I ADORE the current cast of NC apprentices I just want to meet every single one and give them a smooch. so I will, except maybe minus the smooching. Open to all apprentices, kits, or apprentice-aged warriors. the more the merrier!!!
Oleanderpaw had worked up her reputation as a chatterbox over her time in the apprentices’ den, and though she glossed over any signs of annoyance at her loudness, her insistent questions to get to the bottom of whatever gossip was going around, the fact that she was the one who did most of the talking and the other usually listened begrudgingly (a clear, obvious sign of friendship in her eyes), she still felt. . . Othered. And that simply wouldn’t do. Because if Oleanderpaw was anything — and she was a lot; smart, beautiful, talented, so, so generous — she was a social butterfly with a desperate need to fit in. She began the first way she knew how: following people around secretly and gathering every bit of information about their lives and their personality as she could. She’d done it to Moonblight, and though she would never admit it, she had done it to Leveretpaw after their initial adventure outside of camp. He was just as lame with out without her. She really had to help him fix that, because obviously she had to do everything herself and he was incapable of holding any amount of self respect.
It was nearing the end of the night, and usually she would be doing her bedtime routine to get ready for a long, peaceful rest, but she was full of energy. Storming into the apprentices’ den, where surely a few would have gathered to settle down.
”Attention, attention!” She demanded. “I have the most wonderful of ideas,” a laugh interrupted her words, “it’s a challenge — a difficult one, one for only the brave of heart and the most skillful of cats.” She sat down in the middle of the entrance and clapped her paws together. “Who’s down? Anyone? Going once, going twice?”
Leveretpaw had been kneading at his bedding as unobtrusively as possible, tucked away in the corner where the less popular or just less obnoxious, dominant of the apprentices slept — and, really, 'slept' was generous, because most days the den was filled with loud, crass chatter and increasingly sordid, boys' locker room games of truth or dare and someone like Leveretpaw couldn't tell them to be quiet, so he just had to lie there without sleep and flinch every time they laughed particularly loudly — when Oleanderpaw stormed in. He immediately let out a keening groan, something he would only dare do with her. "Ollie," he pleaded, setting down his moss and turning, all slumped and pitiful. "It's late. It's so late." He would just slip past her and go find somewhere quieter to sleep out in the cavern, but she was completely blocking the den entrance and he was trapped. He would have to participate.
Sometimes he wished that Kier's stifling of freedom would extend to the apprentice's den, but the leader seemed to like — encourage, even — the entitled, insensitive atmosphere the young toms and few she-cats had created in their youthful little kingdom, the loud, vulgar behaviour like they owned the world.
Brat, not yet apprenticed but certain it would happen any night, poked her head into the den close beside Oleanderpaw with such suddenness that she could only have been lurking about outside it. "What challenge?" she blurted out excitedly, almost vibrating with eagerness, wide eyes flicking between all the apprentices and teeth clenched in a huge, sugar-high grin.
¶) Crimsonpaw sat up from his nest he wraps his tail around his paws and listens to Oleanderpaw. 'What's the challenge?' He askes with a tilt of his head at her. He had been in his nest, half asleep when she came stomping into the den. He gives out a yawn and looks at her expectantly. His red fur is sticking up, ruffled from his time in his nest. He didn't care.
"Oh, don't encourage her," Leveretpaw sobbed quietly under his breath, closing his eyes and raising his muzzle to the stone ceiling like he was praying. Please let it be something normal, like braiding each other's fur. Please don't take us out on a night-time journey into the woods. Please don't make us sneak out and get in trouble. We'll get so lost. We'll get eaten by wolves. It's so warm in here. It's so cozy. I was just about to go to sleep. We could cuddle and tell stories, that would be nice! That would be harmless! Maybe not—maybe not Ratpaw but everyone else, maybe! Please don't— He went on like this in his head for some time, eyes still squeezed shut, his mouth moving slightly as he silently mumbled the pleading prayers.
Magpiekit had always had this desperate need to prove himself as useful, and even more so when he heard that his sister had already started learning things, like how to sneak around, or a basic hunting crouch. Oh, he needed up, and who better to bother than some strange apprentices nearby? Trotting towards them, he sat next to Brat, peering at them curiously. "Can I join?" he asked brightly. He might as well try to make friends around here.
She glared at Leveretpaw, though it didn’t hold the amount of venom she was capable of. “It’s not really. You’re just a wimp.” She regarded as her control, her carefulness, her fear, where she lacked it — except she never listened, preferring to tease him for his softness. Despite his protests, he would be dragged along. Her eyes drifted down to the voice that instantly made her teeth grate. Brat.
“None of your business!” She punctuated the final word by shoving the kit out of the den, giving her a much harsher look than she had given Leveretpaw. Something about Brat always brought out her most childish side, and she would have felt embarrassed if she wasted her time on shame. Surely the other apprentices would understand her annoyance. As Magpiekit showed up, she gave a half groan, half growl. “Who even are you? Nobody invited you guys. Go!” Oleanderpaw knew they wouldn’t leave, and though she felt the urge to throw them out, literally, she resisted, turning back to her peers.
Her annoyance immediately melted away at Crimsonpaw’s question. “Why, thank you for asking,” as if Brat hadn’t done the same thing. She would ignore the two existed for now. “At the Cenote. It’s a test of endurance, of strength, of will — anything you can think of that’s cool.”
Duskpaw stirred from where she had curled up in the very corner of the room, closer to Leveretpaw yet still far enough away to be completely isolated. She’d picked up the habit of sleeping with her paws pressed on her ears, hoping to drown out the sound of her denmates. It worked, sort of, save for now when Oleanderpaw was essentially shouting. She didn’t dare say anything, of course, because that was the equivalent of throwing herself in front of a pack of wolves. She uncovered her ears and lifted her head. “You still haven’t explained it.” She spoke quietly, as if she were willing herself to disappear with each word. It wasn’t confrontational, simply perplexed.
Actually, Oleanderpaw hadn’t thought of the specifics yet — she was making things up as she went along, but her words were confident enough that nobody would guess she hadn’t made a real plan. She didn’t address Duskpaw directly (it would be awkward considering she had cheered on her murder at the trial), “you will all see soon. But there’s prizes!”
¶) Crimsonpaw nods his head and lifts a claw with a smirk. 'Bring it!' He says with a small gleeful laugh. 'Maybe a hunting challenge or something where we can kill someone or thing?' He asks with a spark in his eyes, that you had to look at to see. He usually kept himself composed, but at the thought of killing something, brought out the sadistic, pychopathic side of him.
"Aw, leave the kits alone. They make a good audience, they can come along. Although the deal is you both gotta' cheer for me." Bumblebeepaw said, brushing past Brat and then Oleanderpaw into the den while flashing a jokingly suave grin at the two kits. They already knew there was no way Brat was agreeing to the deal, but they didn't know Magpiekit, so he was was a toss-up.
Truth be told, the apprentice had hardly half an idea what was going on. They had been out late as they tended to do. Last to go to bed, one of the first to wake up; that was Bumblebeepaw's life routine. They had managed to hear something about a challenge though, and that was enough. They were too competitive for their own good, and there was no way they were missing out on anything that gave them a chance to pit themselves against everyone else in the den.
Duskpaw speaking up always made Leveretpaw uncomfortable, because he preferred it, for his own guilt, when she was silent, when they could all pretend she wasn't there. When she spoke, he looked at her from behind for a long, long moment, his discomfort and indecision clear in the pained look on his face, before he finally gave into conforming, into fear, and ignored her. He stepped around her nest and trotted, quick and anxious, over to Oleanderpaw. "Ollie, do you know what you're doing?" he asked quietly, that same expression of pained uncertainty on his face — except now it was tinged by something else: worry. He always hated it when she embarrassed herself, when she tried too hard for the other apprentices only to have them laugh at her — it was the greatest mercy in the world that she seemed, at least on the surface, oblivious. Just as much as she thought of him as her control, he thought of himself as her... not so much protector, but adviser — and not even so much that as just someone who watched nervously from the wings and then hurried along behind her sweeping up the broken porcelain and soothing the ruffled feathers and apologising on her behalf. And, worst of all, having to try and cheer her up by letting her insult him when, inevitably, she was left, pretending not to be hurt, with him as her only friend.
And he hated that the others didn't realise she was just lonely and trying to make friends; he seemed to be the only one who'd caught onto that early, and he knew Oleanderpaw would be horrified to know that he knew, knew that she would deny it vehemently. He stood, hunched and anxious, at her side, murmuring into her ear, tail curling and flicking. "This always goes the same way — it's not gonna go any differently this time." But he would do what he always did: support her stupid endeavours. His eyes followed Bumblebeepaw as they walked into the den, all confidence, but the rest of his head didn't move; they were the worst of all of them, because even if Leveretpaw didn't dislike them, might have even liked them, the unwritten mutual understanding was that they were the most popular. And he... wasn't.
Brat protested loudly as she was shoved back, but her glower was quickly replaced by a huge, beaming grin as Bumblebeepaw arrived. Salvation. The grin only grew impossibly as they spoke up in her favour. "C'mon," she said to Magpiekit, and then leapt up onto the crumbling stone edge of the den doorway, clambering up with her kitten claws until she was above Oleanderpaw's head — and then dropping down onto Bumblebeepaw's back. Gripping the apprentice's shoulders with her forepaws, her noble steed and protector, she settled down and turned her head to grin maliciously at Oleanderpaw. It was a clear HA.
Oleanderpaw blinked at Bumblebeepaw like they had personally betrayed her by siding with the kits — and to her, they had. Her glowering lessened as she turned her eyes to Crimsonpaw, so much more eager than the rest of them. At least he was fun. She found herself laughing at his words. "Crimsonpaw you genius you've given me the most wonderful of ideas. I could smooch you — but I won't. Hide and seek and the winner gets a cool prize or something. But that doesn't matter because we can decide the stakes for the loser, the first one out." Her excitement returned from where it had been driven off by the unwelcome intruders, those stupid, slimy kits.
She would have gone on had Leveretpaw not approached her, whispering nonsense into her ear that she brushed off, both literally, with a wave of her paw, and figuratively. "Come on, don't be a bore. Don't tell me these kits are more brave than you." She didn't know how much of a fool she made herself out to be constantly, her overconfidence doing her no favours, her socialness combined with her uptight, mean-spirited nature making her a less than desirable cat to be friends with, even amongst a group of such violent cats. An acute lack of social awareness and she didn't even realize it. To herself, she was everything beautiful and strong and brave and kind and to others, she was an annoyance at best. Still, Oleanderpaw brushed him off.
A voice spoke up, close to the same corner Duskpaw kept her nest, though it wasn't her that had spoken. "Doesn't go well." Bishoppaw agreed, staring bug-eyed from their nest. They hadn't bothered to sit up, hardly interested at all in the others' endeavors but feeling the need to speak up anyway.
"See, even Bishoppaw is agreeing with me," Leveretpaw whined, quiet and miserable — but he surrendered to his friend's indomitability and sat back, hunched and regretful. It was clear from the way he said Bishoppaw that he meant 'the weird, creepy kid in the corner.' He didn't dislike them; he didn't even really pity them the way he pitied Duskpaw. They were just... They were like a cryptid who had taken up residence at the back of the apprentice den, and every night you said 'hi, Bishoppaw' the same way you'd say 'hi, murderous clown' to the creature that had just become a fixture over a generation. It wasn't even really that he was frightened of them — it was just Bishoppaw. And sometimes they said things and you had to kind of take them seriously, because most of the time it was weird nonsense but just once they might say 'the forest will burn tonight' and then an asteroid would hit them, so you never really knew. Leveretpaw, for his part, treated them like an ominous magic 8-ball and was among the only apprentice to take their warnings with some hint of belief; he never messed with superstition, not when everything was already so terrible that nothing really prevented it from getting worse, and so sometimes Bishoppaw would say something and Leveretpaw, sitting nearby, would nod along with a faint thrum of fear at the possibility of it coming true and murmur 'you said it, buddy.'
Bumblebeepaw didn't know how they had become the riding horse for a single kitten, and potentially a second. But eh, whatever. They weren't complaining. They were actually pleasantly blind-sided when even Brat had been more than willing to tag along with their offer. They didn't figure it would be for super long, but hey. For right now it was all great.
They re-positioned themselves a bit so Brat could get a better grip and look at everything. They weren't tall -- they were actually pretty small in stature -- but they held themselves like they were larger and more imposing than they actually were, and for right now they were trying to mimic an energy for the kits' sake; something akin to a sort of charming knight holding up a child on their shoulder, a perfect little fantasy in Nightclan's kingdom of blood, death and gore. It was suprisingly wholesome given the backdrop.
Meanwhile they had no clue that Leveretpaw was looking at them, no clue that anyone other than perhaps Oleanderpaw had even paid them any mind; and at the look of betrayal from Oleanderpaw they shurgged it off with a sort of "Well I already done did it so what can ya' do?" kind of grin, that was a warmly carefree as it was slightly teasing. And the mention of a game of hide-and-seek, what in their mind amounted to a little kid's game, wasn't helping her case about gate-keeping the kits from it either.
While Oleanderpaw continued on, hopefully distracted by Bishoppaw and Leveretpaw, Bumblebeepaw occupied themselves by turning their head to look back at Brat and Magpiekit -- on their face was another wordless expression that was clearly treating Oleanderpaw's contest and banning of the kits as some sort of cheeky inside joke, like a "Can you believe the gall of that? Hide and seek and she won't let you both play?" Of course they weren't sure if the kits would get it, maybe they would just think that was what apprentices did because they didn't know any better, but they hoped they caught on.
Magpiekit didn't have the confidence Brat had, but there was something about the other kit that he admired. He had shied away the moment Oleanderpaw had told them to scram, but with that extra reassurance, he followed after the other kit, albeit a lot more tentatively. His paws were still too big for his smaller frame and they were plenty more clumsy than the other kit's, but he managed to follow suite, climbing onto Bumblebeepaw's back all the same, hoping the other apprentice didn't mind.
He did feel a rise of indignance at Oleanderpaw's quips, but he had been prepared to ignore it. However, when it turned out that he wasn't the only cat who felt a sort of annoyance towards these silly rules, there was a gleam in his eye. "She's just scared she'll get beat by two kits," he replied a little louder, knowing the others would be able to hear him, "I bet she knows we can hide better than anyone because we're smaller, she'll just be embarrassed when she loses."
