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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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.
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Post by achromatic on May 7, 2020 19:00:56 GMT -5
The sunrise was always so quiet, yet loud at the same time. Silverspectre didn't quite know how to comprehend it. Most of the others were still asleep other than the few lucky ones chosen for the dawn patrol, but the birds followed a different schedule than they did. They had been up when the sun was still hidden from view, already chattering loudly in the trees. The tall tom had always woken up early, nestled in his space at the foot of the den, his eyes open and watching the first faint rays striking the tips of the mountains, as if outlining the land for the world to see.
The breezes were still cold in the mornings, but Silverspectre was used to that. WinterClan's winds had been biting, cutting through his fur like nothing. With a stretch of his hind legs, he stepped into the misty morning, blinking away the faint grogginess still settled into his skin. Dawn patrol, who else was supposed to be assigned alongside him? He sat by the entrance of the camp, enjoying the few moments of solitude he could get before the world began to wake.
Deerpelt was roused from a particularly boring dream - so drab he couldn't even remember it the moment his eyes opened - by the sound of someone moving around in the den. His eyes needed a moment to adjust, and by the time they had fully opened and no longer had that cloud of sleep in front of them, whichever warrior had been stirring had already left. The brown Savannah tom raised himself to his paws and arched his back in a deep stretch. He knew that it would be chilly outside and the thought of curling back up in the spot that he had warmed was incredibly appealing, but Deerpelt also knew that he needed to go ahead and get up for the day.
The warrior carefully stepped around the others who were still fast asleep and slid outside the den. He felt the cool morning wind cut into his short fur and shivered. Deerpelt looked toward the freshkill pile and noted that it was a bit low at the moment. A particularly shrill bird call sounded somewhere up and above to his right, and he glared at it pointedly. How dare this creature be so joyful this early? The tom itched to find it and eat it for breakfast, not because he was hungry but to teach it a lesson about how mornings should work.
At the entrance of the camp sat another tom. Deerpelt made his way over unhurriedly, allowing himself to wake his limbs up slowly. "It's cold this morning," he commented as he drew nearer. He recognized the other warrior but was blanking on his name. It was too early for real conversation, but he cleared his throat and asked, "What was your name again? I'm Deerpelt, by the way."
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Post by achromatic on May 7, 2020 21:04:45 GMT -5
His gaze was fixated on the pale skies, a content expression upon his face. The air smelled fresh, as if pulling him towards the forest, inviting him to dwell in its nested roots and flowering shrubs....huh? A voice shook him out of his thoughts, and he immediately stood, glancing behind him to another tom, eyes wide as if surprised, before blinking. Right. There was a patrol, of course. His daydreams often ran away from him a little bit, he supposed. Silverspectre gave Deerpelt a tentative smile and a nod of agreement; it really was cold, especially for spring. The afternoons were hot, but early mornings still felt the shudder of winter at times.
He already began to head towards the camp entrance, when the other tom asked for his name. Silverspectre opened his mouth to reply, but the words refused to come out. Looking rather sheepish, he cleared his throat again, another attempt, before swallowing. It was just not something he found natural; his voice didn't always work the way he wanted it to. It sounded like one that hadn't been used in a while.
"Silverspectre," it was almost a whisper, as he gave the other cat a nod and an almost embarrassed expression, as if apologetic for how he sounded.
Deerpelt looked at Silverspectre curiously. His voice sounded strange and rough, like perhaps he hadn't spoken in a while. The brown tom shrugged it off - perhaps he was getting over a case of whitecough. Deerpelt glanced back at the camp, wondering if anyone else was supposed to show up for dawn patrol. He paced around in the cold for a moment as neither of them spoke, but the wind was really biting at his fur and no other cat had appeared yet. He decided he didn't want to wait if he didn't have to, so asked Silverspectre, "Are we the only two for patrol?" Maybe a yes or no question would be easy enough for the other warrior to nod along to until his voice picked back up. Perhaps the two toms could get some water while they were out and try to help his throat a bit.
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Post by achromatic on May 9, 2020 19:49:53 GMT -5
Gods, he felt like he hadn't spoken for years. Whatever came out of his raspy throat barely sounded like words, and he reminded himself to never do that again....until he had to, as per usual. At least he could pretend he just had a cold or something, but at least the other cat didn't seem like he cared. Okay, pretend you have a cold, he told himself, before steeling his expression in preparation for some question whether he was feeling all right–
oh. A yes or no question. That, he could do. He nodded tentatively, before giving the other cat a shrug, as if telling him that they'd be fine on their own. They just needed to check the borders and well, springtime was a peaceful time at least. It wasn't like the winter, where everyone fought to survive, to weather the storm and hunger that gnawed on their bones, right? He gestured towards the vague direction of the moors, as if suggesting that direction and looking for Deerpelt's own suggestion.
Deerpelt waited for the other cat's reaction. A shrug. Okay, so it would probably just be the two of them in the morning. That was okay. Less chatter and more focus on hurrying so many he could get himself out the cold. He said as much to Silverspectre. "I'm sorry you're not getting rest if you're just getting over being sick, but if it's just the two of us, we can hurry up to the borders and make it back to the warm den."
Deerpelt watched as Silverspectre gestured vaguely somewhere, and he took it as their cue to get going. The tom stretched his front legs and looked over at the other warrior. "Feel like a run?" He looked off at the different directions they could go, but this was one of his first patrols with his new clan. He felt a bit lost, and to shrug off the feelings of newness and try not to embarrass himself in front of the other warrior, he added, "I'll follow you this morning. Let's get going."
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Post by achromatic on May 9, 2020 22:07:09 GMT -5
Silverspectre simply returned the other cat's concern with a dip of his head and a faint smile, as if uncertain how to react. He was never really a sociable sort of cat–others confused him, and as a kit, he had hidden behind his older brother, letting the other cat speak for him. These days, he was sort of on his own. Which made things a lot more difficult. He let out a sheepish chortle, a silent one, before nodding at that suggestion. It wasn't all that easy to explain that it wasn't just getting sick–he just didn't talk. Then again, the other cat would probably figure it out later, when the others socialized. Reputations travelled far, it seemed.
A small smile appeared on his face at the other cat's suggestion, and he nodded, stretching his hind legs as he looked forward, ears perked in an almost eager excitement. A run sounded fine. With a glance to the other cat to make sure they were on the same page, he began, a slight jog quickly turned into a sprint as he dashed forward, weaving between the trees around the camp and heading towards the heart of the forest.
Deerpelt followed Silverspectre through the forest. It felt good to run this morning. There was dew on the grass, but he wasn't worried about slipping. The light of dawn shining through the trees was beautiful and golden, so hazy it made the outline of the forest soft like a kitten. His heart suddenly cramped up as he remembered his own kits back in SunClan, but he pushed his pace harder and ran faster, hoping he could outrun those memories. Deerpelt pushed himself a bit too fast and came up nearly neck-and-neck with Silverspectre until his thoughts came back to the purpose of the run, and he slowed down, remembering he had no idea where they were going.
The spotted tom was momentarily concerned about the other warrior and whether the run would be bad for his throat, but he shook off the feeling. It wasn't his place to care about another cat anymore, and he certainly wasn't going to start with this random one.
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Post by achromatic on May 12, 2020 21:54:29 GMT -5
Honestly, days like this, he felt like he could run forever. With the faint warmth of golden sun on his white pelt, he could feel the wind on his face, the grass tickling at his legs as he moved forward, his shoulders slowly releasing the tension that constantly tightened into his muscles whenever he was with someone else. When he was moving towards a destination, all of that faded away. There weren't any pretenses, there was nothing but himself and the wind behind him–
And a moment later he remembered that, right, he wasn't alone. Slowing down slightly, he glanced back to the other cat only to find that Deerpelt was right next to him, which almost caused him to stumble in surprise. Right, right, border patrol. Why anyone would trust him to lead one of these made him chuckle, but he looked up once more, taking stock of what was around them. The gnarled tree, the breeze that carried the foreign scent of frost melt and cold mountain water...right, WinterClan's border. It hadn't changed much, despite the years since he had lived up in the frosty mountains.
He turned to Deerpelt. A twitch of his ear and tilt of his head spoke volumes: Did they want to move along the border together or split up and remark the territory on their own?
Deerpelt waited a beat for Silverspectre's decision on how they should proceed with their patrol until he remembered the other tom's throat issue. Right. The warrior assumed his gesture was asking the same thing he had been waiting on, so Deerpelt spoke up with his opinion. "It's early in the morning, and the sooner we finish the sooner we can go back and be warm. Let's split up. There shouldn't be any danger this close to dawn." Honestly Deerpelt didn't know if that was true, especially since he wasn't used to WinterClan/FallClan relations, but the changing of the seasons implied more food for every clan and better weather. He couldn't imagine anyone would try to invade at the start of Newleaf.
Post by achromatic on May 15, 2020 21:59:02 GMT -5
Silverspectre gave the other cat a nod. While he didn't mind going on his own at all, there was always a certain wariness at being on this specific border on his own. Any of the others and it'd be different, but WinterClan was his old home after all. Things had changed in the years he had been gone, that was for certain, but that didn't mean there weren't any familiarities there. He nodded, gesturing to the side where he was heading, giving the air a light sniff. The wind wasn't strong today, and he was upwind; there wasn't anything obvious. Hopefully that meant there wouldn't be any trouble.
Of course, things never worked out quite right for Silverspectre, and he headed out, unaware that there was a young fox sniffing around this area.
As Deerpelt and Silverspectre split up, the tom slipped into a slower pace this time, taking care to mark the territory well. He was downwind so he continuously was able to scent the other warrior, but there was something unusual in the air as well. Perhaps it belonged to the clan on the other side of the border. The spotted cat ignored it and continued marking and walking. After a few moments, he heart a strange yipping sound and his stomach clenched. Could that be... no, it couldn't be a fox. But something didn't feel right, and the tom whipped his head around to glance back up the border. Something orange was moving in the bushes, and his blood ran cold. "Silverspectre!" he called suddenly, fur sticking up in alarm. He didn't want to run toward the danger, so he made a wide arc around the area, back into FallClan's territory. Deerpelt planned on looping until he reached the border again, but he was worried that the fox might reach Silverspectre before he could.
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Post by achromatic on May 16, 2020 21:34:16 GMT -5
Being alone was the usual state of affairs for Silverspectre, if he was honest. He kept to himself; everyone knew that. He didn't speak, most other cats knew that. He was lonely sometimes, only a few really knew that. Still, loneliness was comfortable most of the time, at least, when he was out in the territory. Being here, so close to WinterClan and yet, not knowing a single familiar name within the clan anymore...that was when he really felt the full sting of isolation in his chest.
He was going through the motions; marking the border was easy enough, and not something that needed to be done with both the head and the heart in the same place. Perhaps that was why he didn't notice anything out of the usual. The scent of WinterClan really was overwhelming; why did he never think so when he had been living there? Had it really been this long since he had left?
A shout of his name made him jerk his head up. Wait, what was that? Was Deerpelt okay? He immediately turned towards the cat, ready to head back when the flash of red fur made his blood go cold. A fox, and he didn't even have time to hide, his white fur sticking out awkwardly amongst the brown and greens of the undergrowth.
Great, now he was a bright, bold target for a hungry animal. Just great.
Deerpelt used his speed to its full advantage, racing back toward where Silverspectre had been. His eyes searched frantically for that red color that he so feared. There! But what should he do? Deerpelt skidded to a stop. Should he attack the fox? Out of fight or flight, his flight instinct kicked in first, and he raced up the tree nearest him. The warrior looked back down at the scene and yowled, "Silverspectre, quick! Get up a tree!" They would have to figure out a plan, but for the moment, his patrol partner needed to get out of the way of that creature!
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Post by achromatic on May 18, 2020 20:24:16 GMT -5
Oh no. Oh no no no. Of all things he had expected, a fox really wasn't one of them, and one in spring too. Spring foxes were probably the worst. Well, no, winter foxes were the worst but spring foxes were just as hungry, and Silverspectre did not want to tangle with one. He glanced up to Deerpelt at the sound of the other tom's voice, freezing up for a moment, before dashing away, the fox immediately giving a yip and following hot on his trail. No, he couldn't lead it towards their territory, right? The closer he got to camp, the harder it'd be to manage the situation, and well, he wasn't really ready to climb a tree. As much as being a larger cat gave him an advantage in most things, climbing trees–especially the ones here that were thin and wispy–wasn't exactly something he could charge right into, not like FallClan cats who were born here. WinterClan was all crag and mountain, climbing those were easy enough, but this? This was an estimated risk.
He glanced left and right, looking to find an exit, or something that he could use as an escape to no avail. He could lose the fox in WinterClan's more scrappy terrain, but that would mean something worse for them all. Making a quick turn, he dashed into the trees, trying to find cover.
Deerpelt watched from his perch in horror as Silverspectre ignored his advice and instead ran off into the territory. Mouse-dung! He couldn't leave his new clanmate alone to be fox food. Deerpelt half ran-half fell down the trunk of the tree. If the fox was chasing the other tom, Deerpelt could come up behind it. He thanked fate that he was so fast and used his adrenaline rush to push forward, close on the heels of the fox. He caught up to it and shot out a spotted leg, clawing at the brightly colored flank. Deerpelt didn't even stop to consider the danger of confronting the fox. There was no way he would run from it all the way back to camp. There were three options: run around until it grew exhausted and left, lead it into the other clan's territory, or fight it. Deerpelt preferred the idea of crossing the border, and he yowled as the fox turned toward him. This was good. It would give Silverspectre a moment to catch his breath. The warrior wasn't sure if he'd run back toward camp or not, but he assumed Silverspectre would return. There was no way he would have led a fox back to camp.
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Post by achromatic on May 19, 2020 21:09:41 GMT -5
Silverspectre could feel his lungs begin to burn; he was a long-distance sort of runner, not a sprinter, and he was running out of options. Turning to glance back at the fox, he was surprised to see the creature turn rather than chase him. The flash of darker fur made him realize quickly what had happened. Deerpelt! No, he wouldn't...right? It was an utterly stupid thing to do, to try to bait a fox, and Silverspectre immediately turned, gritting his teeth. The other cat was small; it made him more nimble, but that meant against a fox twice his size? He didn't want to assume anything about the other cat's fighting skills, but he knew a disadvantage when he saw one.
Immediately gearing up, he raced towards the fox rearing on its hind legs and immediate slammed into the creature. He was large enough to disorient the russet creature, but he knew the fox would quickly be back on its paws...and angrier than ever. He turned to give Deerpelt a look of concern, as if asking whether he was okay, before lashing his tail in a 'follow me!' sort of way. At this rate, there were only two options, lead the creature to the camp or to the end of the border, and neither of the options sounded great.
Deerpelt was relieved when Silverspectre returned and slammed into the fox. It was quite frankly terrifying to see the vile creature up close to him. For the brief moment that the fox was stunned, Deerpelt looked over to the other warrior to see what they should do. Silverspectre flicked his tail, and Deerpelt rushed to follow him.
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Post by achromatic on May 21, 2020 19:51:37 GMT -5
(no worries!)
He was breathing hard, racing through the forest as if their lives depended on it. Well, frankly, their lives did depend on it. As Deerpelt slowly gained on him, he glanced at the other tom, a panicked expression on his face as if asking which direction to go. He glanced forward, towards the faint path that lead towards WinterClan, before glancing towards the marked path that he knew led to the lake, where other apprentices could possibly be training. A squeak of a sound left his throat. Either way was a risk, but frankly, getting caught in another clan's territory would be bad and could possibly start a war....but leading it back home would probably kill some of his clanmates too, right? He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Deerpelt was getting tired of running at this point. He had more endurance than speed, but it was running low and he wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. Deerpelt noticed Silverspectre look over at home and make a squeaking sound. He was momentarily irritated that the other tom was sick st the moment because their communication method was extremely difficult while in danger, but Deerpelt berated himself after he thought it. It wasn't Silverspectre's fault, but maybe in the future he shouldn't patrol until his voice was back. Deerpelt didn't know the territory well enough yet to know which direction to head, so he called out to the other warrior as they ran, "We can't run forever! If you know of anywhere in the territory with somewhere to take cover, take us there! Otherwise we have to avoid busy areas." By now his voice was coming out in short bursts as he panted from exertion.
