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.
Frightsight was running. His lungs felt as though they were moments from bursting, his legs heavy and numb all at once. His pale blue eyes were open but they were not seeing what was in front of him as he ran blindly through NightClan territory. What he could see were shadows. The trees were black and hazy, the space around him a deep purple and blue. Eyes and claws were peaking at him, hidden away, but he knew that they were dangerous. That they would kill him if he stopped running, so he didn't. His paws caught on roots and slipped on rotted leaves, thorns catching his face and ears, tearing small gashes in his cheeks that he couldn't feel. He had though that maybe, just maybe, the visions would go away as he got older. He was a warrior now, not a kit. He couldn't let them take control of him.
Just then, the space around him started to clear. He stumbled as the sky began to turn blue and the trees came into focus, bright and alive with green leaves and supple bark. Frightsight collapse, only feet away from the SunClan border, heaving and gulping in the fresh air to his aching lungs.
Really, Doefreckle shouldn't have been wandering around other Clans' territories now that he was deputy; he ought to have been curled up back home in SummerClan, with the late-night birdsong and the purrs of his sleeping clanmates, with the warmth and the comfort and the new smells that were already beginning to feel familiar. But his nomadic ways were proving difficult to shake, and more often than not he found himself sleepless with excitement, lying sprawled out in the warriors den and daydreaming of all the places he could go now that he had a true home to come back to. The thought was both comforting and intoxicating. He'd never belonged anywhere, and now the idea of wandering aimlessly felt more like a treat he shouldn't let himself have than a thinly-veiled cry for help.
But he had never been very good at stopping himself from having the things he wanted, and so he found himself back in the territory he had once called home, the territory he had been born in, raised in, trained in, had his heart broken for the very first time in, when he had been little more than an apprentice. It still smelled the same. The memories came flooding back, but, for the first time in moons, they were more gently nostalgic than painful. Less regret, less fear that he had made the wrong decision in leaving. Now, he'd found the place he was meant to be, and this place was little more than long-ago happiness and the memory of having been loved. He came to a stop amidst the night-time trees, eyes adjusting instinctively to the darkness like he had never left, and smiled as the ghosts of times past danced and echoed around him - the first time he caught a bird by the light of the moon, the laughter of the apprentices they had all been, the leaf-fall rain against the treetops, the—
A cat sprinted past him, spraying up earth and leaves. Doefreckle flinched backwards and stared after him as he sped away into the undergrowth; he smelled far more like MoonClan than NightClan. Slinking out of the shadows and into the pale glow of the moon, he limped after him, far too curious to be afraid, and found him collapsed on the ground just shy of the SunClan border. Glancing warily at the other side of the boundary for any night patrols, he crept closer to the other tom and looked down at him with a tilted head and warm eyes. "Fancied a run in the moonlight, did you?" he asked, feigning seriousness.
Frightsight's white fur — speckled with silver — stood on end as the tom rounded on Doefreckle, his claws unsheathed and a deep growl that came from the pit of his stomach, his pale, nearly white, blue eyes were wide. He was expecting to see a horrendous monster, perhaps one with ten tentacles dancing about its head, or one with fangs as long as his own tail, just moments away from ripping him into tiny pieces and leaving his bloody bits for his siblings and clanmates to find. But when Frightsight saw that it was nothing more than another cat, although a stranger, he noticeably relaxed, although his eyes stayed narrowed and suspicious as he looked at Doefreckle.
"SummerClan?" He spat, ignoring the tom's question, tasting the air and catching his scent. "What are you doing in MoonClan?" He was still breathing heavily, his sides rising and falling rapidly as his body tried to recover from his visions. It was getting harder the older he got, though he had not been a warrior for terribly long. It wore him out, leading him to sleeping often, and his sisters questioning him whenever they found him napping on the job.
Doefreckle watched the other tom, a small, calm smile spread across his face as the warrior spat and panted and stared. It wasn’t something he was used to, being the composed one in any sort of interaction, and, strange as it felt, it was a change he rather liked. He gazed into the other cats’ eyes as he spoke, taking note of the fear, the exhaustion, the panic slowly dissipating into the cool night air; he wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t feel more concern for the tom – all he knew was there was an air about him, one that made Doefreckle certain this wasn’t a particularly unusual occurrence for him, and that he didn’t need him to fuss. So, he didn’t. He smiled, and waited, and when the warrior questioned his origin with spitting distaste that only made his smile widen, he dipped his head and replied gently, “we aren’t in MoonClan territory anymore.”
He flicked his head in the opposite direction, eyes never leaving the other tom’s. There was something eerie and haunted about them he found he didn’t mind at all; they rather fascinated him. “Quite a bit back that way, actually. In fact, you’ve almost reached SunClan.” He reached out a forepaw and tapped the other side of the scent border, looking back up at the warrior with an amused smile. “Quite the adventure you’ve been on, and it’s barely even moon-high."
He sat down, sweeping his tail around his paws, and let out a warm purr. Perhaps this tom wasn't quite so used to meeting cats from rival Clans, but it was something Doefreckle was well-accustomed to, to the point of being careless and overly-familiar. It was rare, really, that he stumbled across cats looking for anything else but a little treacherous comfort away from the prying eyes of their clanmates; certainly, there were times he simply made friends, with she-cats and toms who liked she-cats, and he enjoyed those times just as much, if not more, little, friendly social butterfly that he was — but the majority of late-night encounters were with cats not looking for the innocent sort of companionship. He didn't think this was one of those times - the other cat looked far too bewildered to think of anything but his next breath - and he really didn't mind at all (though the tom was pretty, he couldn't help noticing; in a ghostly sort of way) (very pretty, actually) (stop). "What’s your name?”
"NightClan?" Frightsight breathed, sitting up, his fur sticking out along his neck and back. How could he have been so careless? Whatever fear or hostility he had felt toward Doefreckle had disappeared in his now anxiety over being in one of his neighboring clans. NightClan was not one that he had wanted to find himself in. His pelt prickled uneasily as he turned his ghostly gaze back to the tom, the tip of his tail flicking anxiously. He had barely heard a word that the tom had said to him.
"Frightsight," he managed to at least say his name. He was looking around them, but not just for enemy warriors. For shadows, too. They were worse, and here they had led him so far from home! He couldn't even imagine what would have happened to him had he crossed into SunClan and been caught by their warriors. "What's yours?" He asked, when he was satisfied that there were no terrifying nightmares lurking behind the trees and in the nests of brambles. "Why is a SummerClan cat so far from home?"
