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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Claws hashed through his nose, but he barely flinched. His paws struck the ground and immediately launched him forward again, intent on slamming her to the ground beneath him, where he'd finally have an opportunity to do damage. He might not be the craftiest fighter, but he had endurance, and if she slipped up and put him in a stronger position it would not end well. Brute strength was not to be underestimated.
She shouldn't have expected the slice across his nose to do anything more than annoy him, but she had high hopes for a fleeting moment before he landed completely undeterred. She kicked her hind legs to the side and swerved out of the way of Johnny's strike. As soon as she landed she lunged and tried to latch onto one of his hind legs with her jaw.
His victory was near certain upon him until she slithered from his grasp once again, and his nostrils flared in annoyance. He turned to keep her in his gaze, and almost by pure luck moved quick enough to evade her jaws. Johnny backpedaled a few steps to study her with his small eyes, his tail lashing, and remained tense and ready to move if she tried to attack him again.
"You're not bad, for a city cat," he grunted in grudging respect.
She felt her jaws close on the wind he left behind. It frustrated the she-cat to no end. If she had been more diligent in her training the fight would have been on its way to completion by now, but here she was playing with a feline who did not deserve any more of her time. She was slightly surprised when the combat ceased, at least for the moment. "I'm just getting warmed-up sweetie. You yourself are little heavy footed. I'd work on that if I were you."
Johnny snorted, understanding this was nothing more than posturing. Get warmed up? Please; like that ever happened in a real fight. It was just another excuse to make her and this shabby group of cats look better. Still, she had managed to hold her own against his assault, and that was something. "Try standing still next time I hit you, I promise you won't think being heavy is such a bad thing," he answered dryly.
His disbelief was understandable, but she never thought her life was ever threatened in their tussle. If by some miracle he won, the tom would have left her with some taunts and a few threats if the bulky feline was feeling particularly bold. If he had proper training and more techniques in his arsenal than a head on attack, his bulk didn't have to be a disadvantage. "That's the point. I'll move around, and you could catch me if you knew how to do more than charge someone."
"I've never had a problem catching someone. The wiggly ones get a few blows in on occasion, but they're only fast because they're piteously weak, and as soon as I get a hit in they're down for good." He had to admit, though, he had been struggling to do just that with this cat. Maybe she was just better than what he was used to, but it did make it wary that she had dodged around his attacks with such ease.
She chuckled and wrapped her tail around her dirt covered paws. For a rogue with no formal training, he was not a bad fighter. His instincts were clearly as sharp or sharper than the average combatant, so with a bit of stylistic work he could be quite the force, but she had no interest in teaching a rogue. "Hmm, so does that make me one of your wiggly ones, or am I something else entirely?"
She flicked his ear with the tip of her tail. "Oh, you don't need to tell me. I could tell by all your little growls during our little tussle." She winked and drew her tail back. "Thanks though."
"Yeah, well, you're just lucky I went easy on you. These muscles aren't for show, you know, and if I tried I could really do some damage." Johnny eyed her expression intensely for a reaction.
The Bengal did not think she had ever met someone so full of himself before, and she had been face to face with Vera multiple times. A glimmer of amusement flashed in her eyes. "Of course you could, except no one you have ever fought was worth it, right?"
"If you've met rogues before, you understand that's true," he responded with an assertive nod. "Mange-pelts and cowards. Get into a real fight and they'll probably starve to death in a couple of nights whining of their wounds."
She hummed and nodded to him, but she could hardly believe what she was hearing. As much as she wanted to knock him down a notch, he was so astoundingly ignorant of his own hubris that she wanted to see how far he would go. "Oh, believe me I know. I was a rogue for quite long time. I never met someone even willing to fight me."
His eyes widened in surprise, and Johnny shot her an appreciative look. "Never wouldn't figured you for a rogue," he told her. "Thought ya must've always been one of these city fools. Too pretty to be a rogue." It wasn't a compliment, not exactly: he wouldn't mind her taking that way, she was pretty, but he was commenting more on how sleek and refined she was.
She chuckled and shook her head. He clearly had no experience with the rogues in her neck of the woods. "No, I was never one of those city fools living in the sewers. I grew up in the forests of the League." It was not the whole truth, but it would pass for someone like Johnny. It was not like he would be able to follow up on everything she said, if he could remember something for more than a day. "I take it you're not from around here then. Where are you from?"
The League; he'd heard about them. Bunch of outcasts that liked to strut about like they were something impressive, but he guessed most of them would come apart under a single blow. The cats with the biggest talk were often that way, just trying to scare other cats off because they didn't have his brute force to back them up. "I'm from the forest as well," he replied with a simple, dismissive wave of his tail. "Not this forest, though. We didn't have a name for it. None of these 'clans' around there, just rogues. Couple of gangs, but none this size."
"Of course, I understand. Someone of your breed and abilities could not have be born into a forest like the ones around here." She wondered if the tom knew she was just seeing how blind he was to his own narcissism. "Smaller gangs would give much more practice fighting, so it makes sense."
His eyebrow cocked, uncertain if she was mocking or complimenting him. He went on and warily took it as a compliment. "Practice is the right word for it. Not real competition."
