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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Cascadepaw no longer looked troubled. For the first day after her mother's death, she hadn't been able to push the haunted expression off of her face. Of course, when she knew that she couldn't hide it, she'd simply went into hiding, became more of a ghost than she normally was. And then, like nothing had happened, she put herself together, and once again allowed her face to be seen. She had given herself that first day to mourn. No matter how angry she had been at her mother for the way things had to happen, it would have been cruel of her to feel nothing at all. But, like most emotions she ever felt, Cascadepaw's first impulse was to mute her reaction into nothing. It was easier like that. Especially now, when there wasn't anything she could do about it anyways.
The apprentice blinked a few times, focusing once again at the task at hand. Her body was tense, her gaze locked on the prey in front of her. Hunting made her feel in control, even more so now. It gave her the chance to decide which creatures lived and which creatures died, a soft power to reclaim after she had been forced to make the decision to execute her mother. She had become quiet adept at it, too, prefering to spend her time doing whatever she could to be alone.
Or at least, she normally was, when a cat didn't snap something behind her. At the noise, the rabbit's ears twitched and then immediately took off. She sent herself forward anyways, but the creature was able to evade her, leaving her to let out a low growl of irritation.
To any that knew Nadirpaw, or really had even seen him, would know that clumsy was basically all he was. So, it should come to no surprise that he was the culprit that snapped a twig beneath his paw, causing the rabbit that was so close to fresh-kill to take off immediately. He had just been about to freeze in place when he realized there was truly no point now, and simply continued approaching. "Ah, whoops," Nadirpaw threw out without much sincerity behind the words, having grown out of being ashamed of his clumsiness; his lack of shame, however, seemed to only make him all the more obnoxious. "You didn't need that one anyway. I'll catch a nice big one for you." With that he gave a sly wink as he slinked closer, really looking quite smooth and charming; once again his clumsiness shone through and he stumbled on a stray rock, ruining whatever sense of glamour he possibly mustered up.
Whoops. There was a part of Cascadepaw that was quietly enraged by the tom's ambivalence. Could he not at least pretend that he was actually apologetic? Of course he couldn't. Who would pretend to be apologetic to the daughter of a heretic so recently burned at the cross? Instead of giving a biting retort, the she-cat only dipped her head, her ears pinning back ever so slightly.
"Of course, you meant no harm," she meowed. Subdued and ladylike, that was how she chose to present herself. "How gentlemanly of you." She offered him a small smile, trying to sound as genuine as possible. For the most part, she was quite adept at the role she had selected for herself. Except for on rare occasion, the trial being one of them, that horrid night with Bumblebeepaw the other, she fit the role well, a reverent she-cat who kept her head down and did whatever she needed to to keep her head above the water. That meant that even when she wanted to grumble about how she didn't need a tom to do anything for her she was perfectly capable on her own , she only gazed at him with soft, referential blue eyes.
It was then that he stumbled slightly. Cascadepaw had to resist a laugh; it was ironic, really, how many times she watched toms fall on their face (or into a pool of water). Her whiskers twitched slightly, the only sign of her amusement, before the she-cat quickly closed the distance between them. She offered her shoulder to stabilize him, her gaze dutifully concerned. "Are you alright? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"
In all honesty, it made no matter to Nadirpaw that she was who she was; yes, he took some sort of pleasure, or perhaps entertainment, in Kier's reign and amusing "trials", but when it really came down to it, it wasn't that deep to him. More than anything it was probably a gratefulness that he wasn't the center of any of it, just a fill in, a tom cat with no qualms. No, ultimately, Cascadepaw was a she-cat, and that meant it was his duty to seduce her in the most clumsy, unlikeable way possible, of course.
So whenever she came to his side, sympathy in her voice and concern in her eyes, it only fueled his infuriating arrogance. Nadirpaw straightened himself and a smirk found its way to his face. In truth, he was quite an attractive tom; though it was all ruined as soon as he opened his mouth. Perhaps his clumsiness was karma, brought down on him for his smugness and incessant harassment of she-cats, and perhaps it would be rightfully so. "Oh," He began and tilted his face towards hers, "I'm so much better now, thank you. You have such a softness to you. Don't you worry your pretty little head about me." With this he ran his tail against hers, completely shameless in his harassment, or charm as he called it.
Cascadepaw fought the desire to pull away from him. She had a natural adversion to the NightClan toms, but mostly because she hated the way that they looked at her, like a prize to be won. Perhaps they couldn't help it, though. She was a prize in all of the ways that mattered. Her faint blue eyes danced like water, her body was delicate and slim slim, her marbled fur never out of place, her attitude was subservient; she checked nearly every box. It was the only reason she was relevant at all; she was a beautiful image, a representation of what NightClan femininity should look like, and it was her saving grace. Without it... Well, things probably would have gone significantly differently for her. A large part of her was grateful for it, the fact that the ruse had worked, that her acting skills were impressive enough that no one suspected anything below the surface. A small part of her, though, the part that wanted to fight just as much as she wanted to live, absolutely hated it.
Luckily for NightClan, the smaller part of her never won.
"Oh, good," she meowed, her voice relieved. She let out a soft laugh as he continued, a bashful smile crossing her face. "Pretty?" she meowed, her blue eyes wide and gentle. "No one's ever called me that before," she meowed with a soft, girlish giggle. This was, objectively, a lie. But, he didn't need to know that. Nadirpaw didn't need to know a lot of things about Cascadepaw; no one needed to know a lot of things about Cascadepaw. The only thing he needed to know was that she'd play along with him, and she'd do a damned good job at pretending she wasn't simply just playing along. When his tail brushed hers, she shyly looked away, another giggle passing through her lips. Inwardly, a siren went off in her head; being touched made her blood run cold. But, the cat of stone didn't dare make her discomfort visible. Instead, she let out a soft purr. "I must be the luckiest girl in the clan."
