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.
Barrenfrost licked at his massive paw. He had Hemmingway paws, they were practically finger like and overall a freakish monstrosity, however incredibly useful in battle. Given that fact he hadn't been nursing his paws as usual. He was perfect for WinterClan, thick coat of fur, not too pure white to be useless during the warmer moons, but with grey tints to help himself blend well in any environment with a snow leopard appearance. But his paws, however helpful they were in combat cracked easily. The pads were crusted with blood and splintering at the skin. Usually he would point an herbal remedy over them daily. At first he hated it, taking it as a sign of weakness, but soon realized that perhaps it was his father from the other side punishing him for not doing enough for the clan. Still if he wanted to hike out further he needed to fix them up. Given that WinterClan was WinterClan herbal remedies weren't always available though. Which was why he would at times resort to sap to harden over his pads even if it was gooey and uncomfortable once hardened.
"Poor thing hurt his paw," meowed the voice of a long-legged gazelle of a feline. The voice was the kind of voice you would expect out of a feline of her quality. It was seductive and low, almost raspy, and it ebbed and flowed out of her mouth in a perfected rhythm. There was an air of mocking that colored every time she spoke, but when you were a god among men, it was just too easy to mock the mortals.
The lynx point Siamese looked as if she had no interest in the socialization that she had just innitiated. She had a way of doing that; starting a conversation and looking perfectly bored before the other feline even got the chance to speak. That, of course, had a similar reasoning as the reasoning why her voice sounded constantly mocking: how was a mere flea, a thorn in the side of humanity, ever come close to entertaining her? The only time that others caught her attention for more than a few moments was when it could be assumed they were in some sort of pain. Perhaps this meant she was sadistic in her nature, but perhaps it simply meant that she truly believed that only felines like her, whose numbers were embarassingly small, were worth even the air they breathed. Now, that was a thought that entertained her, the idea that she had the power to snuff out wastes of oxygen. However, she had yet to ever lay a paw on another feline. Not yet, at least.
Barrenfrosts teeth clicked together as he turned on his toes to meet her gaze. His eyes were fever-bright, the centers icy blue, the edges licked with gold, "Yeah I did. Hey, you look like one of those kittypets I find at the border and enslave to be my pets. I don't suppose you have that urge, do you kitty? Or do you bite?"
He cocked his head, not realizing he was playing with fire and even if he knew, he wasn't afraid to get burned. He stepped towards her,his paws practically shook the earth as he padded towards her. His massive snow leopard looking body practically blended with the snowy tundra around them. Invisible and daunting as he met her now face to face, "Apologize and I won't punish you too bad for that comment."
