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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Crimsonrose had done little to announce her return to WinterClan. While admittedly she had thought she'd left the clan behind for good, Leatherstar's return meant she was needed in WinterClan as well. It made her regret leaving Mysterypaw in the Forest Clans, but her current position in MoonClan (the clan was in a sad state that she was able to sneak in and out of that clan without cats noting she was gone for so long), allowed her to keep an eye on Mysterypaw's growth and development from afar.
And hopefully through distance Mysterypaw would escape her shadow.
However, Crimsonrose had settled back into WinterClan easily, it was if she'd never left. While she held no current position anymore, as Leatherstar had made no comments about reinstating the systems of shattered and Frozens, Crimsonrose felt that enough cats should know her to not get in her way.
She was still shifting and sorting things out before she was able to return to WinterClan and fully devote her time there. But she was still contributing.
She dropped a large hawk she'd managed to lure in using a mouse. The hawk had seen it from afar and dropped to try and catch the freshkill, resulting in Crimsonrose getting the hawk and the mouse, though it left her with a nasty gash on her shoulder, that had finally stopped bleeding.
Hawk's talons were as sharp as claws it seemed, and the wound stung a bit, but Crimsonrose didn't mind. It had stopped bleeding so there was no longer a reason to concern it. Though it could grant odd stares at the sight of a nasty wound on her shoulder for seemingly no reason. But she paid it no mind instead picking up a mouse and taking it towards the camp entrance gobbling it up. She avoided the main entrance instead seeking to slip out, not wanting to get caught up in interacting with the cats who were coming in and out.
Seeing wounded cats wasn’t new for Bearspirit – being a Prison Guard meant that one couldn’t be squeamish with anything to do with injuries. She’d gotten used to that tangy smell that came with open wounds and was able distinguish that particular smell from everything else from far away. Which meant that when she had caught that metallic scent, her eyes dilated, and her ears pricked. She swiveled her head this way and that, taking a moment to figure out where it was coming from.
She tasted the air, a confused noise escaping her mouth; whoever it was didn’t smell like one individual scent – they had the scent of WinterClan on them, but there was something else. An intruder? Perhaps it was someone who had been living on their territory for a while. The heat wave had caused for some loners and rogues to start becoming more adventurous and daring, edging further into WinterClan land. Pleased with this thought, she changed directions, swerving to the left towards whoever was out there, her claws now digging into the ground with anticipation.
As she crested the small hill, she froze and crouched down, hiding among the tangle of brushes. A figure was moving from WinterClan camp, a large wound along their shoulder. She watched their surreptitious movement, noting that they hadn’t chosen the main entrance – which meant sneaking around. Intruder, Bearspirit thought, her muscles bunching, a malicious sense of glee sparking in her veins. She’d have to thank whoever or whatever injured the figure like this. She wanted to wait until the figure was further from the camp, not wanting to raise any alarms – it was just one cat, she could take ‘em! She flattened herself against the ground, heart pounding with impatience.
Suddenly, she burst out from the brushes, paws thrumming against the ground. Using her momentum, she barreled towards the figure and just at the last second, she pushed her paws against the ground, trying to trip them up. She rounded around the figure, hissing and spitting at them, starting to encircle them. “You thought you could just steal from us, didn’t you?” Bearspirit snarled, her pelt fluffing out in an attempt at intimidation, “you’ll be going back in a bloody mess when I’m done with you.” She darted forward again, raising her paw up and slamming it down towards the figure’s head.
Crimsonrose's ears turned towards the sound erupting from the bushes. Bearspirit collided with her legs and though Crimsonrose did stumble, she didn't fall.
She recovered her footing and observed the cat for a second. A solid looking she cat, she smelled of WinterClan, and Crimsonrose's amber eyes gleamed.
Ah a WinterClan cat keen to test their strength against her?
Well she wouldn't disappoint.
When Bearspirit lunged for her Crimsonrose twisted her head tossing the mouse she held aside, Bearspirits blow striking her shoulder instead. Crimsonrose shoved forwards headbutting into Bearspirits chest to shove her back, lifting a forepaw to help with the shove.
The blow was strong, this cat had some power. Excellent. This would be an exciting fight for certain.
With a growl, Bearspirit swung herself to the right, struggling to maintain her balance with the headbutt, as she stumbled back, winded. “You brought the stolen prey with you?” She wheezed, her eyes flickering off of Crimsonrose just for a second to stare at the mouse. Fury made her tail fluff out and she began encircling the other she-cat again. She could smell the fresh kill on the stranger’s mouth and a low growl rumbled in her throat; this wasn’t the first piece of prey the other she-cat had taken.
Her blood boiled and without thinking, she threw herself at Crimsonrose again, pressuring her wounded side. She pushed with all her might, paws shoving into Crimsonrose.
"I bring back a hawk and take just the mouse, and yet you're complaining?" Crimsonrose mused tilting her head. When Bearspirit sprang at her, and slammed onto her wounded shoulder Crimsonrose merely grinned. A cat as battle hardened as her was used to the stinging of wounds, and the pain sharpening when pressure was applied to an area not yet healed.
Instead she embraced this pain, twisting her head and biting onto Bearspirits scruff, beginning to turn shifting her paws to try and sweep Bearspirit's paws out from under her, paying no mind to the blood flowing from her reopened wound. Focusing instead on trying to unbalance Bearspirit and move to drag her down by knocking her legs out from under her and dragging her to the ground by keeping a tight hold on her scruff.
Confusion crossed over Bearspirit's expression and the pressure on Crimsonrose lessened. She let out a surprised snarl as Crimsonrose bit her scruff and tumbled to the ground, her breath coming out in a gasp as the wind was knocked out of her. For a moment, she lay there, stunned, before she howled with irritation and twisted herself out of Crimsonrose's grasp, clawing at Crimsonrose, almost batting her away, as she scrambled back to her paws, jumping back a couple ways away. The wound on her neck irritated her and she shook her head, gasping for breath. "You fight well - for a dirty outsider," she spat. Her fur went in different directions, dust clung to her, and the bite wounds were more annoying than she had thought. She felt so alive.
Bearspirit feigned right, before darting left, shoving all of her weight not on her front paws, but back, and she slid to the left, sending clumps of ice, melting snow, and dirt into Crimsonrose. Without another second to waste, she advanced, claws striking widely and with abandon.
