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.
"And can you believe he leaves the nest looking like that? Why, look at his ears! And his whiskers- why, they're not even the same length! Oh dear, look how wide his eyes have gone - are we scaring you, dearie?" Dizzy threw back her head with a laugh as she watched the young cat turn and flee from her words. The broad ashen feline took great joy in sitting with others or by herself and criticizing other cats or exchanging banter. Indeed, she did very little else with her time, but she was usually caught up on the latest changes and gossip.
Cynder was almost impressed with how quickly the cat had scared the youth away from her. That was a borderline talent, one that Cynder herself prided herself in having. Of course, the kind of scaring off that Cynder did was a lot different. It wasn't gossip that she used as intimidation factor. Cynder was the kind of fiend who liked to use horror, real horror, to get the job done. Still, though, she could appreciate a good day's work when she saw it.
"Do they normally flee from you like you've got the plague?" Interest filled her voice as she settled next to the cat, not bothering to ask whether or not she had permission to. "That was a record time to get someone to bug off, if I do say so myself." And, of course, she did.
i think u fudged the lyrics up isn't it your grace was wasted on your face not in it
google said it was is, can't believe it might've lied to me
Dizzie laughed. "Oh, they usually can't stand long enough to even think of responding," she snickered. "Common bloods often feels that way." The voiny had often claimed that she was a descendant of a now-overthrown and long dead Tsar of BrookClan, but given the relatively short lifespan of the Monarchy, it probably wasn't true. That never stopped her from treating everyone else as lesser, and few cats dared to stand up to her, or answer her insults with their own.
Her plumy tail whisked as she looked over the other cat, unimpressed. "Now, you scurry off now and watch the master work. You think that was a record? Ha, you ain't seen nothin' yet, hun."
i mean i might be wrong but i'm not so Cynder knew this about the she-cat, that she had a feigned superiority complex that rooted from probably a fake relation, but there was a part of her that expected that Dizzy would tone that done, being that she was talking to Cynder herself. The right hand to the throne, the she-cat was only a viony because she refused to be thrown into the life of a cyd just for the hell of it. However, she was close to Kerrigan in a way few others were. They had bonded almost immediately, all those moons ago when tsar was a young viony herself, taking on Cynder as her first kadet.
"Excuse me, what did you just say?" she scoffed. Normally, Cynder wasn't the most confrontational cat, but she didn't like being told what to do. She never had. Rules and orders were not things that she considered necessary. After all, she was devoted to the god of chaos herself.
She glanced at her disdainfully. "I said, scram, or watch me work in silence. I ain't got time to bother with you."
Kerrigan's right paw? Please. She doubted the other cat had as much influence as she imagined - and even if she did, Dizzy had done nothing wrong. She hadn't offended the gods or done anything other than insult a few meaningless cats and ask Cynder for some peace. In truth, she didn't even care if Cynder left her, but if she was going to stick around she'd have to offer up some entertainment. Dizzy had insulted what felt like the entire clan; soon enough she really would have, and then she'd lose interest in the activity entirely. Anything to freshen it up was fine in her book, a bit of spice for an otherwise drab evening.
Cynder wasn't normally a cat that bristled at others. In fact, she was normally the one that made others bristle. It was sort of the job; Cynder would upset someone, they would get upset, she would laugh. The cycle would repeat. She wasn't the one that ever was bothered. Yet, that being said, she could feel a faint heat rise to her cheeks. She shifted slightly.
"Oh yeah?" she snorted, her fur fighting to raise a little. She truly wasn't sure why she was getting upset. She had no reason to get upset. "And what if I choose not to do either of those things? Then what-chya going to do?"
look i'm righti didn't actually listen to make sure i am but
"Then I'll be dreadfully bored and disappointed that you're just another furry heap of badgerdung not worth my time. I thought you had a brain in there, but you appear to have lost it. Or did you forgot to think for so long it merely degenerated?" Her tongue clicked and she shook her head. It was a mere errant, a slight disappointment, and while she found the other she-cat vaguely annoying if she at least fell quite she wouldn't have to deal with her anymore.
ive listened to that song for like years and i've always been wrong and now i am offended
The she-cat found her paws lashing forward. It was a strange moment of aggression for her. Seldom did she strike with claws or paws. There were a million ways that could be better applied to solve her problems. Kerrigan had made sure she understood that from the second day of her training as a kadet. Yet, she felt almost as if she couldn't help herself, like her paws were controlled by Tiveronah herself to create chaos of blood spill. Her claws graced the corner of the cat's face. The incision marks were not deep, but they were not civil. A savage's response to conflict.
"Watch who you're talking to," she meowed through gritted teeth as her paw, tinged in a few singular drops of blood, reached her side once again.
Her thick cheek fur ruffled as claws whiffed through, and she felt her skin nicked. She felt a thin tear of blood begin to stream down toward her chin, and swiped her tongue around and caught it, tasting rage. She struggled to swallow her fury, to keep her claws sheathed in snowy white paws rather than retaliate - but the large feline did just that, and though her thick fur remained puffed up, she remained settled, and forced a laugh.
"Who I'm talking to? Just another voiny not worth my time, it seems. When words confound you, you result to blows, because your tongue can't run half as fast as a worm in the rain. Why, I imagine you must be stumped by the simplest things; a gathering must be an astonishment to you!" Dizzy snickered. "Just as I suspected, you're nothing more than a puffed-up peasant strutting about like you're queen of the world, and hoping nobody will notice you're just feather and thin skin."
