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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Post by strawberrycupid on Sept 1, 2019 21:10:30 GMT -5
There was no mist, it was hot down here at the base of the mountain. Cooler temperatures were still about a moon away. The heat felt bitter, burrs pulling at her stark white pelt and the sun blinding bright blue eyes. So she really appeared more out of a fog, one that hung low and felt more ominous than majestic. Walking like she should of had an army behind her, she approached the border, all by herself. Her gait was tall, dignified, like an older elegant lady telling you not to mess with her or you'll regret it. Except young, princess-like with an authority like a knife. She smelled of holly and ice, pink pawpads irritated by walking on dead grass. Glancing over her shoulder one last time, like leaving behind all she knew, she took that first step over the border. And the wind blew behind her as she sneezed the loudest and messiest sneeze known to cat kind.
It was three days since he'd found his sons dead. Two days since he'd brought his daughters to live with him in SummerClan. Two days since Shadedsun had told him it was his fault. Doestar still hadn't forgiven him for that. He wasn't used to living with a family, wasn't used to sharing his den with a tom who wasn't his mate and their two kits. He'd expected it to feel comforting, heartwarming, sweet. Instead, it just felt suffocating, like he couldn't make a single move without someone noticing. He hadn't even been out of camp since they'd brought Lilykit and Applekit home and he was starting to go stir-crazy; he'd never gone this long without exploring something, without wandering aimlessly and losing himself in the world. He yearned for that aspect of normalcy, for that part of having no commitments and no emotional responsibilities that he'd always taken for granted. Being leader was a lot easier than raising two daughters and treading on eggshells around Shadedsun.
Padding daringly close to the witch's hunt at the edge of the wildflower meadow, Doestar revelled in the time by himself, shaking off all the grief and breathing in the warm, sweet air, imagining his anxiety fading into the sunshine and disappearing into the thin clouds. He peered through the grimy windows, trying unsuccessfully to catch any movement inside the hut and seeing only dried bundles of herbs hanging from the rafters, before hopping back down and limping along through the meadow. After a while, he found himself smiling - a small, airy, tired one, but a smile no less. He made his way through the towering flowers, surrounding himself with their colour and their sweet scent till the sky was almost blocked out; he didn't want to go too close to the WinterClan border, didn't want to be reminded of his journey with Shadedsun, and veered off as soon as he caught a hint of the scent markers.
Not soon enough, clearly. Through the dry, golden grass, he spotted a familiar white pelt and his breath caught in his throat. Their kits were dead, he'd let them all down, and Ghoul was back to let him know just how terribly he'd failed him. Fear and a fresh wave of grief settling in his chest at both the sight of his old friend and the memory of his sons, he crept closer, brows drawn together and ears pressed back against his head - and then he straightened in confusion. It was a... she-cat. "Bless you," he called, because he couldn't think of what else to say and it slipped out before he could stop it. Suddenly realising he'd spoken, his eyes widened in alarm and he slapped his forepaw over his mouth. "Sorry," he whispered around his paw.
Post by strawberrycupid on Sept 4, 2019 14:37:29 GMT -5
Her head whipped at the sound of someone, pelt bristling as she was caught in such an embarrassing predicament. Though her eyes softened just a little at the site of the tortoiseshell tom. But why? She wasn’t sure. Approaching him cautiously, she circled him, eyeing him suspiciously like he was the intruder and she the leader, rather than the other way around. Every step was calculated, the slow methodical walk continuing until she stood in front of him. Appearing like a ghost, she wouldn’t be surprised if he reached out to see if she was real. Several had.
“You’ve been through some real mouse dung haven’t you? You look awful.” For such an elegant looking she-cat, she spoke so plainly, “What a leader.” She added with a scoff
Doestar stayed still as she circled around him, his bad forepaw raised uncertainly and a polite, completely bewildered smile on his face. You look awful. He let out a surprised little laugh, giving her a soft, still mildly friendly excuse me? kind of look and tucking his chin back into his throat. “Thank you so much!” he replied, brows still raised in amazement and voice just bordering on an amused purr. “I get out of bed in the morning just hoping, dreaming, that someone will say those three, sweet words to me.”
What a leader. Doestar let out a scoff, his expression shifting to a slight glare that looked quite odd when paired with the small smile still on his face. He was so completely, utterly lost in this whole interaction. Who was she? What was happening? Why did he suddenly feel annoyed that this she-cat he’d never met didn’t approve of him? What was there not to approve of? He was adorable! “I’m sorry,” he began again, voice slow and a little lower as he backed a few paces away from her. “Before we begin criticising my leadership capabilities – which, completely fair – can I just ask… who are you? Because, I gotta tell you, you look awfully similar to someone I used to know and he was equally obnoxious and giant-ego-having, so I’m just kinda wondering if there’s a family tie.” He smiled, equal parts sweet and barbed.
Post by strawberrycupid on Sept 5, 2019 16:16:03 GMT -5
Spectreslight merely tilted her head at Doestar's sass. Well, it was true. He looked like he hadn't slept or ate or actually groomed himself in days, far too stressed it seemed. Even in his lighter movement, there was a certain stiffness in them. And she was much prettier. Long white fur, bright blue eyes and all four limbs straight.
"You're referring to Ghoulstar, correct? Winterclan leader for a short time, went by Ghoulmask, bit of a grouch? He died recently, so he must be the one that brought me here." Her words were light, like they were nothing. Like her heart didn't twist at each of them. "Spectreslight. I'm... his daughter. I don't think a companion of his' should walk around like that. Especially when they are the leader of Summerclan."
Hearing Ghoulstar’s name spoken aloud sent a stab of grief into his heart; and, at the mention of his death, he let out a quiet breath, dark, dull sorrow leeching through his bloodstream. A week or two ago; he would have struggled to believe it, would have fought against the idea that the tom he’d found their kits with and whom he had cared for could be gone. But there’d been so much death recently. Too much.
“His daughter?” he echoed after a moment, voice quiet and vague like he was just waking up again. He shook his head faintly. The she-cat’s insults fell on deaf ears; the world tilted in the way it had been doing for the last few days. Nothing felt real. “I didn’t know he had...” He trailed off weakly. And the insults caught up.
When he looked up again, there was an impatient frown on his face, the grief swiftly giving way to anger; his emotions had been so fluid and quick to change lately — he barely had a chance to feel one thing before it was surrendering to the next, always moving, never managing to find purchase. It made him feel sick and fragile and vulnerable and terrified.
“Do you get your kicks out of walking into a place you aren’t wanted and insulting its leader?” he replied sharply, taking a step closer. He spat out the next words. “Spoiled brat of an insufferable grouch that you may be, surely even your father raised you better than that. You don’t think I know I should be better? You don’t think I want to be?” He floundered for a moment before adding in a confused, angry flurry, “and why are you here?”
Post by strawberrycupid on Sept 9, 2019 18:53:06 GMT -5
It hadn't fully sunk in for Spectreslight, so even just watching Doestar's expression change as she said it sent a stab of pain through her heart. She couldn't bare to look at them, and her gaze found itself at her paws, scratching at the ground some. The image of him warped in her mind again, and she bit her tongue to get it to disappear. Composure finally coming back, she rose her head to say something but jumped back as he snapped at her. It was gone just like that.
You were never good with people, were you Sly?
Unable to keep the dumbfounded look off her face, she returned to her full height, silently cursing herself. Opening her mouth again to say something, she shut it and looked back the way she came. Back up the mountain. She really should have just stayed there, never should have talked to him. Her nerves made her claws sink into the earth, like she needed purchase to stand completely still.
"I know you want to. I want you to be. So does he. That's why I'm here." Voice barely above a whisper, she let go. The relief like a wave over her, looking over her shoulder with soft blue eyes wondering just how he was gonna interact to that.
He felt immediately guilty, the anger seeping out of him as quickly as it had taken hold; it left him feeling more exhausted and drained than ever. He didn’t know what she was going through, didn’t know what she was running away from; that wasn’t fair of him. He let out a breath and opened his mouth to apologise and call her back, expression defeated— So does he. That’s why I’m here.
Doestar gazed at her in confused silence for a long moment, a cold, ghostly chill passing through him and making him shiver. “What?” he asked at last, voice incredulous in a tired, breathy sort of way, because it was all he could manage. “Why—” He glanced around in a frustrated little circle. “What, did he say something before he...?” He couldn’t say the word; he’d said it far too often lately.
Post by strawberrycupid on Sept 10, 2019 15:24:53 GMT -5
Regret bowled over like an avalanche, and she could only say she was sorry with her eyes. Her own emotions felt like a turbulent storm, filled with regret and relief at each turn. She should have held her tongue, but she didn't. Lashing out in a vain attempt to get some purchase, but there was none. It just made everything worse, especially for her dear old dad.
That moment lingered, and Spectre approached him cautiously as he finally spoke up. There was no way she could finish that sentence, everything had happened too fast for her too. A few days ago, she was living contently high on the mountain with her mentor Deja. Now she was dead and her dad was dead and everyone was dead. Her heart only sank further at the thought. She wasn't there when it happened, she could only...talk to his spirit. The spirit of the man left behind, not who he could become after death. But... she didn't want anyone to know. Who's to say she wouldn't get kicked out of here just like Winterclan?
She let out a faint shaky breath after a moment, "Yeah. He said how he wished he could stay here, for just a little longer. Gave me a small blessing. Asked me to check on you and... them for his sake."