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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The bad part about the desert: there's no water. The worst part: the winds. A she-cat braced herself against another gale as winds ripped through the desert plain. She hissed in fury as she felt the sand under her paws get blown into the swirling winds above her. She blinked away the sand caking in her eyes before pushing forward again through the storm. As she rose to the top of the dune she could see the lush, green leafs of the forest replacing the coarse, yellow sands of the desert. Before long she heard another gust in the distance. The Huntress cursed again before jumping behind the other side of the dune, then tripping over her paws and rolling down the remainder of the way. She coughed and sputtered to clear the sand from her nose and mouth as the gust above her pulled the coarse substance into SunClan's territory.
She knew she was not too far from their border, maybe fifty meters, and intended to keep some distance. Their customs on outsiders eluded the exhausted she-cat's mind, but one she had one of her many hideouts nearby. She pulled herself along the baseline of the dune until she rolled down yet another small valley. A small stream carved and continued to carve the shape into the fringes of the desert from the forest run-off, and it created something not short of a miracle for a traveler like the Huntress. She dragged herself along the banks of the stream until she came to a hold just large enough for herself to fit into, and slid into the den, or rather cave, landing in a pool of water. In the stream's glory days it had been far more powerful. The water carved an entire system of sandstone caves underneath the desert. It was perfect for the Huntress: she had running water from the forest in the privacy of a desert cave. She pulled herself from the basin onto the dry, sandstone floor and sighed with relief. Now she could rest.
This territory was far different from his old home, and he liked it half as much, but he had to admit there was something enchanting about the blend of forest and desert. EarthClan's sparsely spaced trees and low scrubs were indistinct and repetitive, though he missed the cool shade on these scorching hot days. Nobody lived in his old territory now, though, so the newly promoted warrior was simply glad to have his freedom back to adventure in this new land.
The strapping mostly-black tom was exploring the sandstone unchecked for the last quarter-moon, climbing up every perilously tall rock and diving into every small tunnel opening. It was good fun and there were a lot of areas to see, new prey to encounter, and new scents to follow: like this one, suspiciously fresh, of a cat he didn't know. Ghostcrown followed the trail closely as it led into a cave and paused in the entrance, straining to sense what was ahead as he carefully edged into the dark. "I never realized you Shadewalkers took your name so seriously," he commented calmly, his voice ringing through the cave.
She cursed under her breath when she heard the newcomer's pawsteps echo as he approached the cave. She staggered to her paws, and then created a cloud of sand and dust upon shaking out her fur. She blinked her icy optics clear of the sand that remained. Her eyes scanned the cave interior for the passageway to the one to take her home. Truthfully, she didn't know why she entered in Clan territory. Maybe it was dehydration or hunger, or perhaps her subconscious wanted a fight. It didn't matter. A visitor was mere seconds away from finding her, and she had never met a halfway-decent SunClan cat.
Just as she recalled the path the tom's voice echoed through the cave. She snapped her head back to see the SunClan tom's silhouette against the blazing light of the desert sun. She looked away and ducked behind a pile of debris. What did he call her? A Shadewalker? It was the first time the Huntress heard the term before, so naturally she was curious, albeit cautiously curious. "Really, then what does Shadewalker mean to you?" She called back. "'The one who walks in the light'?" The Huntress turned to the cave floor in front of the entrance and breathed a sigh of relief. One shadow, one cat. She could get out of this without a mess.
"Shadewalkers are outsiders, cats who walk without the Sun guiding their paws. But," he grinned, "I never imagined you chose to specifically hang out in caves. Does that mean Crowbeaks truly have beaks instead of muzzles? Maybe our insults aren't so far off." Despite his sworn duty to recruit her to the clan or chase her off with the threat of death, the warrior seemed completely at ease. He considered a moment, then padded further into the cave, looking for where she might be hiding. "It's much warmer out in the sun. Why don't you head out there with me instead? We can walk back to the border and talk about how you ended up here."
He certainly had been indoctrinated into the cult. It made her want jump from her hiding place and tear the tom's throat out, but she held out. His light tone did not match what he implied. To her, his words sounded almost mocking. She blinked away the last of the sand from her eyes and listened again. The new echoes told her that he entered the cave, and had started to give himself a tour. Fine with her. The sandy floor muffled her footsteps as she circled around behind him, putting herself between him and the exit. She did not want to stop him from leaving, but she wanted the option to abandon ship. "I'm fine where I am, in fact I like it here." She scratched groves into the sandstone with her claws as shrill screech echoed in the caverns. "I'm wondering why you decided to enter my home uninvited."
He padded along the wall with his head lowered, sniffing the sandy floor and wrinkling his muzzle at the scents that greeted him. He circled around further, delving deeper into the den without fear or a second thought until he heard the scratch of her claws, and realized she had slipped behind him. Ghostcrown slowed to a halt, his ears twitching back as he slowly turned to look for her, squinting now at the light spilling in from the entrance. "Your home? This is SunClan territory," he told her, frowning as he warily studied the entrance. Was she going to make a run for it, or was she trying to trap him in here? "You're trespassing in my home, you could say."
She chuckled and shook her head. "Do I have to explain your borders to you? Let me start." She let out and exaggerated sigh. "This place isn't your home. I know none of your scent markers are down here. This is no man's land, but it's really mine 'cause I live here. Well, not here here. But in the tunnels, somewhere." She gestured behind her to the blinding light. "That's your home, you know, where your all-seeing god can watch your every move." She lifted her claws from the floor and licked each of them clean. "You don't own the tunnels. I do. And while you're in the tunnels, you will respect me, and that starts telling me your name."
Ghostcrown had a feeling the rest of his clan would disagree with that statement. They owned everything in their land and beneath it, whether they marked it or not. But the she-cat was right: the light didn't shine down here, so why defend their god's domain where he couldn't see them? With this realization a slow grin spread over his features, appreciating her boldness to stake a claim here. It wouldn't end well for her, but he wanted to see how far she was willing to go.
"You've got more guts than I do, lady," he laughed. "But you've got me there. The name is Ghostcrown, and it truly is a pleasure to meet you and your lovely dusty home." The name still felt strange on his lips. He had requested it specifically when he joined the clan, just to annoy his father figure, but then the tom had passed on from his life. The joke was more like a memorial now, a pompous one, but it was growing on him. "Do you think SunClan will really let you live here? They're a prickly bunch."
She doubted SunClan would ever care to chase her out of these tunnels. This branch was the one deepest inside SunClan territory, and opened up in a secluded entrance just inside the border. The Huntress could see him coming back with his Clanmates to seal the tunnel, but that was as far as she could see them going. Chasing her out of the tunnel system was too dangerous for a patrol. None of them knew the network like she did, and frankly they had no experience in navigating a large system.
The Huntress rolled her eyes. Of course she had more guts than him. If he scared her then she would have left a long time ago. No one with a name like that scared her. "Hmpf. I never understood why you take names like those. They're so clunky, long, and, frankly, stupid. But whatever." She could feel the searing heat of the Sun on her back, and no wind to speak of, so no sandstorm when she left. Perfect. "I don't need you or anyone else to give me permission to live here. If they want it, they can force me to leave."
"Hey, I like the name. It's a sizeable improvement over my old one." Ghostcrown shrugged his slender inky black shoulders. He bounded a few steps toward her, growing more confident that she wasn't about to bolt or attack him. This was her domain, and she wouldn't flee because someone like him intruded upon it. "You think your name is that much better than mine? Please do bless a poor bad-named fool, then, and bestow upon me the rich bounty that is your name."
"I'd hate to hear your first name if that one is better. What was it like? Claws cutting stone?" From his walk she knew this tom was full of himself. His walk oozed confidence like crowfood grew maggots. He thought he owned the world. That was her job alone, not his to steal. Her Bengal fur illuminated her silhouette in the dim light as she rose a paw and extended a single claw. She cleaned the claw while maintaining eye contact with the approaching tom in a not-so-subtle warning to stay away. The Huntress would not flee. He knew that. But that did not mean she wouldn't fight. "My name? You can call me The Huntress."
"The Huntress," he mused, "very professional. More a rank than a name though, isn't it?" Ghostcrown was unperturbed as he continued to meander her way, though he kept his pose as nonthreatening as possible. He had the good sense not to get too close, maintaining at least three tail-lengths from her, though his curiosity would soon get the best of him. He was pushier than he was patient. "It was Dorsalray. Not the best name," he concluded, "a parting gift from my father, who I think hated me quite a lot. The feeling was mutual."
"Yes, and no. I hunt all kinds of prey. Squirrels, scorpions, even some cats for sport when I'm bored. It's a fitting name, unlike yours. Tell me, what exactly is a 'Dorsalray' or a 'Ghostcrown'?" He didn't care for her threat, that was certainly clear. She'd seen his type before. He was trying to get a reaction from her. His basic taunting did nothing to impress her. She'd seen slier snakes slither faster before. It was just a matter of time to see if he spiraled in, and she was genuinely curious to see what his next move was. "Parents, hmm? Nothing good ever came out of them. At least the feeling was mutual."
"Indeed." His mother hadn't been so bad as his father, but she had died too early to make a difference. As far as fathers went, his wasn't the worst of the bunch: Inkspray had been affectionate toward his protege until he was exposed as a killer and chased from the clan. Exile did nothing to improve their relationship. The only true father he'd had was his mentor, but once he had been adopted into their family it was like living in a dream. Families weren't so bad after all.
"I took the name from my mentor. Creekghost, his name was. I thought it would irritate him to no end if we shared a name, so how could I resist? And 'crown' was easy; I just wanted to show off how regal and wonderful I am." Ghostcrown winked. "I thought it was rather creative."
He didn't even have the decency to subtle brag. How brash of him. "Hmpf. Creative? Maybe, maybe not. I'm not painter like the ones you have in your clan. Regal and wonderful? I've met some powerful cats, and you a certainly not regal. Wonderful? You could surprise me." The Huntress knew his type. He maybe wasn't a narcissist, but with any encouragement he'd get there in time. Rather, he reveled in his successes in life, and expected compliments for them. Self-absorbed, not narcissistic. "It is... better than most names your clans come up with. What the hell is a Strikhedoniadalisay?"
Ghostcrown looked hurt, though it must have been in jest because it was immediately replaced with glee at her compliment. He wasn't that self-absorbed that he truly thought he was the most regal cat in the clan. "Exactly, thank you! At least I'm mostly honest, and I know what my name means. To tell you the truth, I avoid speaking to her because I don't know how to pronounce her name correctly," he confessed to her. "I know I should learn it, she's a leader and all that, but . . . well . . . some day I will. I've got so many other new names to learn first."
The Bengal chuckled. "Don't bother. She'll never know who you are. She'll never care. None of them ever do, even your Littlestar. In the end, they're all self-serving rodents." Poison overflowed from her mouth. Perhaps insulting his new leader wasn't the best way to make friends, but it had to be done. "They'll eat you alive to get what they want." She hummed as she walked away from the cave's exit, and around the tom towards the back of the cave. A cool draft blew across her nose as she approached the back of the cave. "Best look after yourself, hmm?" The Huntress dove into one of the dark tunnels behind the tom. If he was interested in what she had to say, he'd follow. If not, then he'd leave.
