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!
News & Updates
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.
Why was every single day painted in his sorrows, his pains, his misfortunes? Why couldn’t he, for once, just have a peaceful, calm, relaxing day? It had only been dull rain clouds in his mind, a slow, bitter wind matching his frozen thoughts. Everything was going wrong and he didn’t know why. Why did StarClan—the universe—hate him so much? He had lost basically everything. Every. Single. Little. Thing. He only had himself now, and his two surviving kits. Maybe he had Appleshine, but she was back in SpringClan and StarClan knew when he’d go back there.
He had spent his days, after the news of Doestar’s demise, lounging alone in the corner of SummerClan’s camp. He was suppose to heal with Doestar. Suppose to live his days with him, forget the past, move forward. But of course the idiot had gotten himself killed. Why wouldn’t he? Shadedsun, being the miserable lump that he was, let out a long, tired sigh. Applekit and Batkit were doing their own thing, and he saw no point in bothering them. He hardly saw the point to anything anymore.
And he lay there, wallowing in his own sorrows, his own pity. And he couldn’t change that. Not yet.
Doestar had already been gone by the time he reached the clan. He had just been another fatality, another blow, after he had already lost so much; he had lost his clan and his life, his homeland, and his suffering was so irresistibly sweet to the stars they had to just keep taking from him. He wished he was surprised. He wished he was breaking down crying and raging over loss, but instead the days had turned him numb. His family was always there, watching, waiting for him to break, but he couldn't; no matter how much he wished, he could barely muster the energy to feel anything.
But Chim had spent his whole life wallowing. He had wasted away for moons on end, for years, and he could not be that cat anymore if he tried. Enough was enough, so he forced himself to keep going and pretend he enjoyed even a little bit of his life here. And really, it wasn't so bad; everything else aside, he almost didn't mind the change of scenery. The cats were kind, too energetic for his taste, but kind. He interacted with them all occasionally, in passing, but he'd avoided Shadedsun. He didn't know how to begin to face him now, but his daughter had urged him on, so here he was.
The ginger tom dropped a wad of fresh moss at the former leader's paws. "We're building nests for-- the new cats," he said, bluntly, but uncertain how to refer to his old clanmates. They weren't WaterClan anymore, were they? "Come help."
Chim had startled him, he was rather ashamed to admit. It just seemed the tom had appeared out of nowhere, but maybe Shadedsun was just too distracted in his own pity. He didn’t look up, felt no need too, all he would see was a mesh of colours. How in StarClan am I suppose to do that? I can’t even see properly! He wanted to say, yell at Chimerastar—or Chimerahunt now, he guessed—for everything that had went wrong in his life. But the other was not to blame. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry. Sure, he resented him a little, but now that Doestar was gone, what was the point?
”Oh . . . Sure.” He murmured, getting to his paws. “Yeah. I can—I can help.”
He didn't know what he was expecting, but for the former leader to meekly agree and rise to his paws wasn't it. He thought they were fight, maybe, or argue; that Shadedsun would fling all those well-deserved accusations in his face about how he didn't care and this was all his fault and he had ruined everything for all of them. He was ready for the punches, he almost wanted to scream at him so he might finally feel something, but there was nothing. Shadedsun resented him silently, or even worse, maybe not at all, maybe he didn't have the energy for it either.
Chim turned away, his head lowered and voice gruff. "You can arrange the new moss. We'll bring in more for you to use."
His eyes seemed far away, a dulling sadness twirling in their depths, matched only by his reclusive body language. Tail low, head down, ears flattened. His paws seemed heavy. So heavy it felt like he couldn’t even lift them to walk. But he did. And it took all of his energy to do so. He shrugged slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, even if it was a blurred mess. “Okay,” he said quietly, barely taking in Chim’s words.
He sat back down, waiting in the depths of his mind for something—anything—to happen to take him out, back to the real world.
Chim left him there. He slipped into the den and checked on the progress, then rejoined a group of cats he was already working with on the den -- Shatteredpaw and Coralreef, his niece and daughter from WaterClan, and Ragingspire, a strapping SummerClan warrior that had offered to help him. The moss in this territory was unfamiliar to them, they were used to the spanish moss that hung from cypress trees over the river in the swamp, and he wasn't entirely sure how comfortable it was going to be. Chim carried a large clump of it to the den and set it down, then looked over at Shadedsun.
"Here's some to get started. You can put it... wherever it goes." Chim shrugged. There was space in the den but he wasn't sure what they could use.