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.
He allowed a yawn to rip open his maw as it rumbled deep within his chest, the large black tom shaking with it's force. He had been patrolling each border, mostly the SpringClan one, for quite some time now, trying to find the distressed cries of a cat not so far away, yet truly, they were. He had no idea the turmoil that was currently SpringClan right now, and though he could sense it deep within his heart that something was wrong, he still didn't know what. A few times, his paws would lead him barely over the SpringClan border, yet he would scurry away, slightly afraid of what he would find.
Midnightdance sighed. Why did things have to be so difficult?
He watched the smaller tom scamper away from the two Warriors who were out patrolling their own borders, a twisted smile on his maw as he watched him do so with a cry of pain. It was nice to be a rouge, and be allowed to teach dumb clan cats a lesson or two. Besides; letting oneselves true facade slip was increasingly fun. Turning his bright blue eyes towards the border, he let out a long sigh and said aloud, "Its horribly boring, isn't it?" he asked his comrade, beginning to stride forward with an expression of barley kept annoyance.
However it seemed the Lynx Point's luck would begin to look up, as Feynvul heard the airy sigh of another from not too far away. Quiet as a snake, he strode forward with his ears flicked back in concentration. Mouth parted to taste the air, he detected the tangy and yet sweet flowery scent of WinterClan — the flowers around their throats seemed to mix quite well. Piqued in interest, he flicked his tail at his comrade and said, "Follow me or don't, I don't care; I just really wanna have some fun."
Parting through the blooming undergrowth, his lidded blue eyes peered carefully through his hiding place as he watched the WinterClanner pace the border with a purposeful look. His blood heightened with excitement, he muttered to nobody in particular, "Quite the looker," before finally deciding to part through the greenery and survey his Rival with interest. A charming smile slid across his face — one that had previously been littered with malice. His voice a charming lull, he greeted with a playful, "Why hello there, handsome."