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.
Reaper was well aware that she had crossed into League territory, but she remained rather indifferent to the potential consequences of her trespassing. The rogue feared nothing, not pain nor death, though she estimated her own abilities to be above the average League cat. The slim black she-cat moved silently, winding like a shadow through the foliage, familiarizing herself with the Primal Instinct scent for future reference.
She had crossed a vast amount of land in the last few weeks. It was nothing new, nothing interesting, but there was little else to do. She had no contracts to kill at the moment, no battles to fight. So she wandered, flitting like a ghost between groups, present but never fully engaged. This was just another day, another endless cycle of sun and moon, movement and sleep, silence and conversation.
Often one did not know of the consequences of their actions until it was far too late. In his line of work it was commonplace to hear his victims lament things like that. It never impressed him. It was all the same, so, so boring. The tom's sea glass green eyes had been following the other she-cat from the moment she crossed the border. The trespasser had an aura of confidence. Or hubris. It was impossible to tell which, but the distinction never mattered to him.
The snow Bengal revealed himself a few yards in front of Reaper and immediately met her gaze. His eyes were like voids, empty and deep. He sat down on the road and wrapped his tail around his paws. He flicked his ear and tilted his head to the side in a simple question: why?
Reaper did not jump as the new tom revealed himself to her, instead slowing to a stop and meeting his gaze evenly. In that empty gaze she recognized a bit of herself, the emptiness that mirrored the abyss in her own soul. Lucky for her, he wasn't immediately hostile, which meant that he did not have the benefit of an ambush. Her eyes were an electric golden hue, dimmed by the darkness of night as they searched the tom's stare.
"I'm just passing through," she responded to his silent question, whiskers twitching. "You must understand the hassle that comes with diverting your path to avoid borders." Not that she had anywhere to be, but it was still preferable to get nowhere faster. "No harm meant."
He flicked his ears and nodded. She had decent point. People always underestimates the city's vastness and confusing streets. All of the pitiful screams coming from the Punishment district consisted of those lost souls. It was so, so unfortunate, but he could not have cared less. The tom worked in the Internal Affairs district. A trespasser's fate did not concern him, except in the odd case of this she-cat. He had no choice but to pass judgement.
At least part of his lenience came from the emptiness she radiated. She did not would hide much. If she wanted to attack him she would have already. He stepped to the side of the decrepit street and signaled for her to walk with him. "Not again. I'll walk with you."
"I am grateful for your escort," Reaper said as she dipped her head, moving forward in her quick, slinky gait. They moved in silence for some time, until Reaper spoke again. It was useful to her to learn as much as she could about the cats she came into contact with, whether or not she ever saw them again. So many of them faded from her mind, marked by insignificance or the curse of mediocrity. But still, she asked.
"I go by Reaper. What is your name?" Perhaps he would answer, perhaps he would not. But it did her no harm to ask. She would log whatever answer he gave, mentally stowing away the information to either be retrieved at a later date or fade into obscurity.
He waved his tail to dismiss her thanks. He did not know what he wanted to do with this she-cat yet. His core pushed him to turn and leap for her throat, but the rational side of the sociopath held him back. He had no reason to risk his life for such a small thing. Reaper was even cordial. He liked that. It gave him fewer chances to screw up. As much as his family tried, sensitivity never worked for him in the long run.
"Reaper. That's a good name. Your parents had a vision for you, hmmm?" The tom worked in the Internal Affairs district, so spying was kind of his thing. With spying came reading other cats, and she clearly had neither a home nor attachments. Her stride in a foreign landed revealed fearlessness, which meant she was either an idiot or confident. Being she did not attack him on sight, she was confident in her odds of survival, and therefore skilled in defense. He knew cats like her operate on favors, ones he did not one targeting him.
“I was born Analise,” Reaper responded. She used to keep that name a secret, worried that her brother would find her, but he was long since dead. “I changed my name to keep up with my reputation.” He had not responded with his own name, and she didn’t press the issue.
“Do you get a lot of visitors here, in League territory?” She has gotten the name from a cat outside the boundary lines, though she knew nothing else about the group.
His eyes stayed forward as he scanned the city streets for the sign of another League cat. Most would not take well to walking a stranger through the heart of the territory, even less kindly to him. Not that he cared about that part. He didn't know half of the cats in his group.
"We get some visitors at the border. Most don't make it much further." He knew a bunch of cats who would have loved to get their jaw on her throat, and they wouldn't lose any sleep over it. "You'd fit in here."
"I don't doubt that you're not kind with visitors. Though I can handle myself." Perhaps the comment was meant to be humorous, but Reaper had always lacked the ability to joke in a way others could understand.
"Were you born here?" Her curiosity had been piqued once again, wondering the number of cats that grew up within the group versus the number that joined of their own volition. Her small black paws fell over and over as she walked, her gait as silent as a shadow, the way she preferred to be.
He shook his head. It was a simple question with a complicated answer, one he did not know the full story to. "Born here, no. But I was raised here and all of that. Haven't really know anything else." He often wondered what had become of the rest of his family, but lacked the will to leave the League to search for them. Nothing against them, but he had more work to do here. "You're a traveler. Born far away, I suppose."
"Yes, rather far from here. Somewhere indistinct and insignificant. The city always draws me somehow. It's very different from the forest." More activity, more variety, though in the end the cities all blended together in her head, creating a hybrid sort of image. "Your family is here as well?" Perhaps that information could be used against him, but Reaper had a favorable impression of this tom at the moment. There was no real incentive for her to blackmail or extort his family when he was providing her with safer passage through the winding city streets.
He had never known anything but the winding streets of the city, so he did not share the same drawing feeling. It was home, its own kind of feeling. With home comes family. His shoulders relaxed for a moment before stiffening again. "Yes. Most of them are still near here." The Bengal swiveled his head between the streets, and a smell hit his nose. One of has clanmates was nearby. It was no one important, he knew what they smelled like. He did not know who this was. "Don't say a word."
Reaper fell silent as commanded, her own head turning to try to sense the newcomer as well. It was unclear whether he had meant to be silent now, or to not talk about his family in the future, but she had no qualms following both implied commands. It must be nice, to have family and connections that could be relied on. A long silenced emotion of longing welled up, but she squashed it as ruthlessly and automatically as she always had. Life was easier without ties. That was what she always told herself, and it was how she lived.
A sand colored she-cat emerged from around the corner. The tom recognized the she-cat's bulky frame almost immediately, and his recognition was ascertained by her cornflower blue eyes piercing through him. "This she-cat will ask a bunch of questions, but she poses no threat." It boiled down to how he saw the world. Is there a threat? What do they do? He avoided this one because of her questions. That and she was just weird.
Yayf-kun's head had tilted to the side long before she even knew why Mirza chose to escort her through the territory. "Hmmm... found an igziq, did you, Mirza?" Her guttural accent cut through the air as she turned to Reaper. "Who might you be, igziq?"