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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Winter still gripped the land in its icy hands, unwilling to let the life rush back into the land before it was ready to fade away. White painted the ground, snow having escaped from it's prison in the sky during the night. Choosing to end it's short life on the ground of the earth, where it could slowly melt away to raise the water levels of the rivers and lakes. Elegant-terror envied it for being able to make such a choice. For her there would be no escape from her own prison withing Springclan. Not tied down as she was with her new litter, not tangled as her fate was with those who surrounded her.
What use would it be to pull the cord taut only for it to rip through her fur and into her skin, desperate as the hands of fate were to keep the group together. For now Springclan was a prison she had closed the door to with her own paws. Willing to languish in wait for opportunity to strike, willing to keep her eyes on those she knew and lean against the one that would carry her farther. Her paws slipped as she moved along the snow, muddy ground from previous rain making her trek out to hunt more treacherous than was helpful.
Silver eyes narrowing as she paused and scented the air, catching only the dead scent of dying leaves and plants rather than any living smells. Unbothered the silver she-cat moved on once again. Hunting had simply been an excuse for her to move into the territory and complete her internal monologue after all. It mattered little to her if she brought back something to show from this trip. After all, she was currently a queen for all intents and purposes. What need was there for her to hunt?
"Elegantterror, fancy meeting you here, it's such a scriptuitous day." Creaturepaw's lilting voice broke the silence and consequently Elegantterror's internal monologue. The vantablack tom had gotten pretty close before he announced his presence and sat only a tail-length or so away from the queen. The snow around his feet was tinted pinkish-red although it was impossible to tell if a similar dye was on his black paws, "Hunting, I'd say. You aught to leave that to me when you have all those little ones to look after." He laughed at his own comment, it hadn't been spoken like a joke but he sure meant it to be one.
(OOC: Creaturepaw makes up words, the only way you'll ever know what 'scriptuitous' means is if you ask him in roleplay, do so at your own risk! lol)
Raising a brow she grave a dry snort and shook her head, bemoaning her own poor luck. Surely she had done something to anger the higher beings that controlled their life, and as a result they had brought Creaturepaw into her path. "Lovely to see you as well Creaturepaw." She hummed though she clearly was anything other than pleased. The temptation to walk away from him was strong but she worried that would in turn drive the tom to follow her if only to be a pain. "And I fear if I leave the hunting to you, you will bring back a mangled mess to camp with what your level of impulse control seems to be."
[[ ooc: that's fine, fun really! I hope you don't mind I made Elegantterror familiar with Creaturepaw since they're clanmates. So I just read his bio and tried to make it seem like she had a passing knowledge of him. ]]
(oh for sure, I'm pretty sure Elegantterror is part of the Madrabbit thing too right?
"Maybe so. Hunting is hardly worth the time if you don't get a little blood on your paws..." It would have been odd for a tom like Creaturepaw to agree so quickly had he not followed up with his second statement. It was sort of his modus operandi to make even the most simple tasks convoluted and extraordinarily messy. He had a chaotic, free-for-all nature about him that some cats were drawn to but anyone with a lick of sense knew to avoid. A tom that never takes anything seriously is hardly someone to trust. He grinned, showing off his unusually long canines, and said, "I make a great antagonist, don't you think? There's no fun in perfection."
He stood up and slunk over the Elegantterror's side, leaving little red paw-prints behind him that faded with each step. His movement was eerie: smooth and fluid while at the same time a bit erratic,"Here's an idea, how about we hunt a jabberwocky?"
[ she is! she is the duchess and the mother of one of the litters. ]
Elegant-terror was not one to be cowed by a little bloodshed, but she was one to find such lack of class, such lack of grace, a disgusting thing indeed. For what use were they other than to make a spectacle of oneself, and a spectacle was only worthy of being made if one deserved such attention. She might not be what she once was but she was never one to measure herself as any less. As a result the apprentice's slinking steps around her only caused her to huff out another little sigh. "The stress of dealing with you is going to send me into early cardiac arrest." Whirling about, slate tale brushing across the youngers nose as she set off. "It's by the grace of the gods that I've already had my kits, otherwise just the frustration of your presence would have jump started my labor." She tacked on for good measure.
"Come along then, I suppose now there your here we should make you useful."
Creaturepaw loved messing with she-cats. They always had so much more patience with him than toms did and also the best reactions. He snickered at the Elegantterror's comment about going into cardiac arrest and slunk after her with an extra spring in his step. It seemed she wasn't up to hunting the jabberwocky, oh well, it just meant he hadn't made a good enough name for himself to have a reputation yet, "Don't sound so excited to hang out with me, Ellie. I've missed your company for the past few weeks while you were nursing your sweet little commitments." He purred, shaking his pelt a bit. Some twigs and other small foreign materials fell to the ground; he hadn't looked all that dirty pre-shake and didn't look any different post. The black tom winked at Elegantterror and added, "You're my favorite grimalkin, after all!"
Elegant-Terror sighed heavily at the mere mention of her kits. She had left camp to get away from the blood-sucking leeches not be reminded of them by the little terror following her steps. And what did grimalkin even mean, she wasn't sure she wanted to humor him and ask. She was sure that was what he was wishing for knowing how truly eccentric he was, or perhaps eccentric was the wrong word for him. Insane was perhaps more apt a description. "How could you possibly miss me dear when there are plenty of others to occupy your time with." She sent him a look with a raised brow. "Don't you have a gang of apprentices you're constantly hanging around with?"
