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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setting: somewhere in the earthclan forest time: middle of the night after most of the clan has gone to sleep
The forest was eerie at night. There was no breeze leaving the air still and quiet. Muddypelt paced back and forth leaving a worn down path in the snow. It had been days since the clan meeting where his nephew Firepaw had been named Medicine Cat. Days since his sister's out burst against the leader. The former Earthclan leader felt powerless that he couldn't stand up for his sister and nephew. Powerless that moons ago he had been forced out of his position by his own deputy who would become Moosestar and his group of rebels. The same rebels that had murdered six of his own children and confined him to the elder den along with his two surviving children. Muddypelt shook his head to rid himself of the memories. The last few moons is what drove Muddypelt to ask his sister to meet him in the forest in the middle of the night.
She had left her two remaining kits asleep, hoping they would not wake and miss her while she was away. It was late, but she had not been sleeping, anyway: she hadn't gotten much sleep at all these last few days. In a single stroke she had lost both her sons. Firepaw had become a medicine cat against his will, and in his jealousy Pondpaw had convinced the leader to promote him early as well: when she protested, she'd been ignored once more, and her son had felt so betrayed he had refused to speak to her since. It hurt, and it kept her up at the night, the loss of two warm bodies at her side. It wasn't fair, and she loathed Solsticestar for what she had done. They were her kits and they'd been taken from her. Hadn't they lost enough?
But as she stepped toward her brother, she had to remind herself she was lucky. Her kits still lived, they were merely distant; Muddypelt had suffered far worse. She slipped close and brushed her whiskers against him in greeting, blinking weary pale green eyes at him as she pulled back. "Muddypelt," she murmured, "it's late. What's this about?"
