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.
Spicepaw's eyes narrowed as he padded out to the border of BrookClan. He didn't look happy, which was strange for the tom. But, he was heartbroken yet again. It was becoming more and more often that the tom got abandoned, and the flirtatious, happygolucky creature was losing the ability to handle it properly. His ear flicked as he heard pawsteps behind him.
"Spicepaw," murmured the voice belonging to said pawsteps. Freshpaw stood behind his brother, giving Spicepaw a stern, unapproving glare. "What reason is there for you to be so close to the border?"
He jumped slightly, before looking over to his brother. "I was thinking about blowing this joint," he meowed rather blandly. At least Freshpaw was still there; it seemed like he was the only one left. Sweetpaw was gone, so was Smallfire. Most of their adopted siblings. His mentor had been replaced. Things were getting rough.
Freshpaw's eyes widened. "Um, not without me, you weren't!" he scowled, putting himself between Spicepaw and the border. Did that mean his brother would have left him in BrookClan, if he'd gone through with it? Or had he just been entertaining the thought, and nothing more? He couldn't tell. "There's nothing that's out there that isn't here too, y'know."
Spicepaw wasn't really going to leave. His life frankly sucked, but Freshpaw was right; would it be any better on the outside? Part of him thought so, that maybe at least then he could find Winterpaw and Springpaw. Maybe it would give him some sense of purpose. Was this what depression felt like? "Life sucks here, though. Does that mean life sucks everywhere?"
Freshpaw's shoulders drooped as he glanced away briefly to the side, biting his lip. "The devil you do know is better than the devil you don't," he finally said, not really sure of how to answer his brother. Maybe Spicepaw's life sucked, but...he kinda liked his. Sure, people seemed to come and go left and right these days, including his family - but as long as he had a single friend by his side, Freshpaw felt pretty secure. Did Spicepaw not feel the same way about him? "It's not worth worrying about things you'll never have to experience."
"Is it?" He asked the question with a small tip of his head. He looked off into the distance again. He wasn't going to leave, not really, but he was going to think about it. He would wonder if the world sucked as much out there as it did in here. He would debate making the jump. But, then, where would that lead him? Alone in the world? "Winterpaw and Springpaw experienced it," he meowed quietly, shifting his weight. "What if they're still out there?"
Freshpaw tilted his head to the side, considering the question. Sure, Winterpaw and Springpaw had 'made it out' as some of the other kadets liked to put it, but Freshpaw wasn't so sure about the supposed success they'd had; while some of the others considered their never returning to BrookClan a sign that there were great things out there if one only cared to look, Freshpaw was more of the opinion that it was equally as likely that they were both off in some distant corner of the world, lying dead in a ditch. Probably a pair of ditches, since they'd presumably gotten separated at some point. No way was he letting that happen to him and Spicepaw.
"There's no way to know," he admitted, shoulders slumping. "But I...I can't imagine that they're just living a happy life, with nothing going wrong. Stuff goes wrong everywhere, it's not the place that causes it." It's the people, he added under his breath.
(if you do, i'll bring back winter and they should come back as warriors owo)
Freshpaw was probably right; they probably didn't have the best life. In fact, their life was probably a trainwreck. But, still, he was hurting. He was hurting and felt alone, which mean that he felt deep within his chest that there had to be something better than this. There had to be a place out there for him. Was that place really BrookClan? He guessed he coudln't overtly deny it. It just didn't feel like the place now.
"It's the people," he agreed, only barely hearing his brother's words. "The place is made by the people. The people here...." Some of them were good. Were there enough good ones to outweigh the feeling of dread made by the ones that weren't? "Why is life so hard? Can't we just go back to when we all were in the nursery with Smallfire..." He winced at her name.
Freshpaw squirmed uncomfortably. Maybe Spicepaw had liked being in the nursery with Smallfire, but as for him...It wasn't as if he didn't appreciate what Smallfire had done for them, and he hadn't exactly hated his time there either, but he appreciated being an apprentice so much more; sure, it was dangerous work with no lack of fear and anxiety involved, but at least he felt like he was making some kind of meaningful difference in others' lives. As a kit, he was a mere burden. "Well, you'd have to invent a time machine for that," he finally offered with a plastered-on smile, supremely unhelpful as always.
Spicepaw didn't necessarily like it, per say. After all, there were six instances where he had left the nursery and left camp, each one of them more dangerous than the last. It was just simpler back then, when all you had to worry about was who had to play. Maybe he struggled with the responsibiltiy that came with his promotion. Or, maybe, he was just deeply sad that two different mentors had abandoned him. Had things gone better, would his mind be made up the same? He wans't sure.
"That might be a fun thing to try to make." A devilish glint passed through his eye for the first time since he had been assigned a training group. "Let's do it."
Freshpaw's eyes widened for a second, before he relaxed his face into a comfortable smile. This is what he liked about Spicepaw, his brother's ability to crack a joke and ease the tension when Freshpaw got too wound up. "Guess that's what we'll do, the," he replied, with a cursory glance over the border. "...I don't suppose you have any idea of how to begin, do you?"
