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.
No one could really know exactly who this cat was, or... why in the world he was singing and dancing in the middle of DayClan's territory. But here he was, twirling around in a flower filled field, his lilting voice practically shouting words into the sky. "If I had the army, let me tell you how it'd be, I'd take over the territory, everyone would bow to me~" Each and movement was full of swagger, the darkened tortoiseshell tom with his coat a little too close to the colors of dried up blood not seeming to care in the slightest what manner of cat might see him.
Eshek had told him to go annoy someone else for a change, and now he was here. Lucisitic, his sister's friend, and Senescence, one of the group's Proxies, had family in the group. Namely Glowstar, their mother, a former League cat. Well, he'd ended up here rather easily, so they obviously wanted him here. Not that anyone wouldn't. Except maybe Eshek, but it was his job to make her want to pull her fur out. No really, it was written in the 'little brother handbook.' Which was totally something he hadn't just made up as an excuse.
Lorah spun himself around once more as he allowed himself to fall onto the soft ground with an exaggerated movement. "Just you wait and see; we'll be royalty!"
Alvah watched from the flat rock he was sunning himself on, his forepaws tapping absently against the sun-warm stone to the beat of the little tom's singing. He hated this sunny weather - his fur attracted the heat and the humidity completely ruined his perfectly groomed pelt, flattening the fluff around his neck and making the skin under his velvet bowtie feel clammy and disgusting. It was all very unappealing. He tugged at the bowtie with one claw, sneering faintly in displeasure. Why was he sunning himself, then? Why, darling, for one, simple reason: the elegance of it. Life was meaningless without a little debonair opulence and sumptuous eccentricity and he wasn't going to let a little pesky sunlight ruin his well-deserved reputation as the Oscar Wilde of DayClan. Uncultured bunch likely didn't even know who he was, but Alvah had spent more than a little time around twolegs and he knew. Honestly. The vulgar masses...
We'll be royalty! "Will we?" he asked, voice quiet and droll. He crossed his forepaws, tapping one claw against the rock, and watched the League tom with a lazy, unsmiling sort of poise; it might have felt practiced, because it was. It was his staunch belief that every little movement should be practiced to perfection in private before introducing any of it to the public. He also couldn't deny that he'd picked up a little of it from the she-cat he'd adopted as his mother; Wanderingwight was always so cold and unfazed and he'd admired the way she held herself since the very first time he'd met her in the apple orchard. Maybe, he'd thought when he was little, if I'm more like her, if I model myself after her, she'll truly love me. Hadn't worked. He still felt like little more than an unwanted burden, tolerated more than welcomed. Anyway, ordinarily, he wouldn't have been caught dead giving the time of day to a... Primal Instinct cat. But he couldn't deny that this particular one was rather cute.
