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!
News & Updates
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.
Feynvul glanced at the camp entrance. Ever since the rumor had spread of his new expected Grandkits, he'd been increasingly uneasy and albeit — though he wouldn't admit it out loud — a bit restless. Though, not for the reasons that usually caused such a fear. No, he was more disturbed by the impending terror that maybe his Daughter had been taught a bit too well. Sure, he wanted her to rival that of any cat that walked before him; but he was also not in the business of creating his own monster. She had proven to be a wild card, and for that he could only sit back and watch. And not even that, but apparently the half-kits were going to be divided equally so that SpringClan would take some.
He knew that Cicero's pet, Ambrose, would be the caretaker of those kittens; but he also feared he might have to take hand in possibly raising the annoying little tramps. Feynvul shivered at the thought. A glimpse of pallid fur caught his eyes — he'd know that pelt anywhere. As easily as it came to him to persuade and manipulate, he ducked away into the shadows and hid from view. She hadn't noticed him. Thank the Gods. He definitely wasn't going to wait around and rush the process of being found, and possibly having to have the inevitable "talk". That conversation would be an awkward one, and heaven only knew that he hated being awkward. Ducking into the thickly guarded underbrush of the camp's entrance, the Lynx Point disappeared into the forest and made to walk as far from it as possible.
"Anxious?" The news might as well had spread over all the mountains! The hysterics she apparently caused in WinterClans camp, the poor tom she destroyed, the bastard kits who were to come soon! "Honestly, I think it's exciting! The first kits bore unto a new era~" Fayettes voice lyrical; every word he spoke was a song. The dashing young hound moved as if he was dancing as he took a place in front of the unknown, humming a tune, "It must be a lot to think about~"
