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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Ratking felt like a rat in a cage, no pun intended. As much as MoonClan had taken him in, and he trusted Puzzlemaker, trusted the cats here, and as much as he preferred knowing exactly where he stood rather than pretending to be something he wasn't, it wasn't truly fitting in. Just because no one complained about him here didn't mean he was accepted. There were things that felt amiss, the odd moment here and there that made him feel as if nothing had changed from the family he had left, moments he looked at the golden frames around him and realized they were nothing but a gilded cage.
The Inquisitor crept along the mansion in the shadows, never coming out of the darkness. The lanky tom was always silent on his toes, faded into the background of the frame, like a smudge in a photograph. In the crossing of the tower's doorframe, he stood for a brief moment, noting the way the moon reflected its light on the chandeliers, rusty and crooked from disuse. It was almost sort of beautiful, and for a moment, he forgot the frame for the skies outside..
His normally dull green eyes suddenly flared to life, a green like radium's glow, before flickering to darkness again. He cursed under his breath, eyes suddenly wide in panic; he knew what it meant. It meant something like a vision, ready to reveal itself. Ratking absolutely hated it. Hated when it happened without his asking. Closing his eyes tightly for a moment, he willed himself not to see, as if calming himself down could control this power of his. He didn't need to be any more of a freak than he already was around these parts. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he looked up again, letting out a slow puff of air, as if getting everything under control.
He opened his eyes, glad to feel that shivering feeling down his spine had disappeared, only to meet another pair of eyes looking towards him.
There was a an anxiousness to the eyes that met his gaze, one that might have been mistaken for fear if it wasn't so equally evident that there was something akin to concern and pity mixed with it. "Are you okay?" The voice was gentle, genuinely worried, but even as the words were spoke the one who spoke made a conerted effort to stay at a bit of a distance. Windsweptashes had heard the other tom was their new inquisitor, and given the reputation the position he had, of being a group of highly qualified and terrifying, war hardened elemental and elemental slayers meant to defeat the most nightmarish of opponents, there was some wariness there. The power of his position did little to make him more confident while in the same space as Ratking, though in truth it didn't normally make him feel that much more confident around anyone.
Admittedly he had never been the most vehemently against elemental in Moonclan's old state; he had felt uncomfortable with the brutality, the slaughter and the judgement against them, and part of him was still uncomfortable with their ostracization even now, but that didn't stop him from being terrified of the abilities held by these cats whose powers he had been taught to fear, look down upon, and keep far away. from
It was only balanced by the fact that in the end, pity and empathy won out for the tom, and despite the fact he had been trying to keep a bit of space between the two of them, he took a careful, hesitant step forward, to better get a look at the Inquisitor and make sure in spite of everything he was still well.
