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.
A black shadow slipped into the courtyard on quiet paws, darting from the french doors that were held open by overgrown nature and lead out to the back of the estate. The sun was rising over the horizon bringing the shadows to life and chasing away the moon they so revered. But the coming day meant that many would be laying their heads down; only the poor students delegated to keeping the day watch having to suffer under the suns care. In truth there was no reason for him to be awake, and if the Mothers caught him out he would likely face some sort of punishment depending on which one it was that caught him.
But while more and more fledglings were making their home in the nursery he still felt isolated and unsure. Ghostkit felt like the odd one out, many of the other fledglings coming into the clan together from either the same litter or under the same authority. He himself had not, no his litter had been born to his Moonclan mother that had perished in the culling and they carried the curse of her failures for all to see. Many said that it was no wonder one of the last litters born to a cat lost in the culling were disabled, cursed by Selene's wrath. Even him, who had escaped unscathed and been blessed healthy carried a stigma with him. He felt as if the Minister and Commissioner eyed him harder than they did any of the other fledglings, as if they expected him to emulated the parents he never knew.
"Well well well, what have we here? Someone's quite the little escapee." There was a rumble of a purr that filled where had once been the quiet of early day, almost contrasting perfectly with the sounds of early morning. Where the soft, warm chirps of birds had once filled the gentle stillness of dawn air, her voice was a cold, unknowable trill that seemed to bubble with contradiction. It was welcoming, it was nagging, it was friendly and it was taunting. It was the jaded sound of a mother to a fledgling as much as it was a mocking humor at an equal who had been caught stepping out of line. But it was nothing if not uneasing.
From where the sunlight met wood that casted shadows from the overhang of the balconies and roof-top trim above, a pair of eyes flickered like two iridescent orbs in the darkness. Her outline was faint, but keen eyes could still make out a razor-thin smile on her muzzle. "Why aren't you in bed?" And as she spoke she slowly rose to her paws, her calico features unveiled as she stepped into the glare of sunlight. Conjuringpaw's eyes looked the fledgling up and down; the expression both oh-so humored and yet so deeply analytical as she seemed to be gleaning something from her quiet inspection of the kitten in front of her. But that smile, that crescent moon grin, still played on her mouth. It was almost menacing, if one could make out the meaning of it at all; it seemed as easily breezy and carefree as much as it was spun of a calculated malice.
Ghostkit had frozen at the first spoken word, as if his stillness would have her gaze passing over him. There was of-course no rescue to be found in this course of action, and his second fleeting thought of playing dead was so foolish he was embarrassed to have thought of it for even a moment. Taking a breath he turned to face the estate looking up towards Conjuringpaw with a narrowed glare and a stubborn frown already overtaking his previous placid smile.
Her question dug pits into him and he couldn't resist his biting response, "I'm not a baby, bedtime is for the babies that haven't even opened their eyes yet. I'll be a student soon anyway." The words were ground out, the imagery of a mule digging in for a fight brought to mind. Ghostkit had a precarious battle with the Mothers, either begging for stories of wondrous things or dodging them as they ruined all the fun with their rules and lectures. The thought that they might tell the Luminaries who to pair him with one day also grated on him, that they could hold him back indefinitely if they so wanted; he felt like a doll on display pulled out when they were bored and shoved into the dark case once they could wring no more amusement from him.
She continued moving up closer to him, drawing nearer with each passing step. And then, when she drew close enough, so close that if she had wanted to, she could have easily just dipped her head down and snatched the kit up by the scruff and dragged him into the nursery herself -- she didn't, she stopped. Instead, she took her seat uncomfortably close to the fledgling, to the point that she had to look down to see him, casting a shadow down across him as her figure blocked out some of the sun. The fact that she was large and he was tiny didn't help, but it was certainly made worse that Conjuringpaw was a large, tall cat in her own right. One wouldn't have thought it, she didn't look tall, but when she was this close, this near, it was impossible to not notice how one had to crane their kneck up just to look at her even if the one looking up was an adult; nevertheless a kit. And now she was there, looming above him menacingly, amber-green gaze focused intently on his own. Her tail coiled around her paws.
"Oh?" Her voice raised, a clear note of humor in a trill of a purr that rose from her throat. "Who told you that? If you misbehave like this, I don't think the other mothers will ever approve you to move on to be a student." It was a terrifyingly powerful thing, what they could do to these tiny lives at the drop of a hat. How they could make them or ruin them, how they could choose how they grew up and when they grew up, and even once they left their care they left them with the aligment that would determine the expectations on them for the entire rest of their lives. And she smiled even now, that still never changing sliver of a smile, though now it was tinged with a sort of silent knowing.
