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!
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Her presence is easy to miss, but once you catch sight of her face it is burned into your memory. Palestep is a diminutive she-cat with milky olive eyes and a gray nose. Her pelt is a burnt cream color with a large gray splotch covering her back and hindquarters. She was a quiet kit, a studious apprentice, and is a diligent nursery aid. Her quiet voice is the soothing sound needed for many overwhelmed or pained queens to help them through a difficult time, and her kind, patient nature makes her a natural fit to watch over and teach the clan's kits. Her heart yearns for companionship, a soulmate, a family, but her shyness make it hard for others to get close to her heart. Caring to all she comes into contact with, it would be hard to find a cat that doesn't like Palestep. Her progression into nursery aid wasn't always planned; after a difficult illness as a kit, she lost most of her vision and can only see things that are quiet close to her with any clarify. The further away you get, the fuzzier her vision grows. This makes venturing out of camp quite dangerous so she tends to stay in camp with the kits despite a desperate desire to see their territory for herself. Still, wanting to keep from being a burden to others, she never asks anyone to go with her and stays in the nursery most of the time. Palestep is a she-cat with dreams as great as the massive oak in their territory, but held back by misfortune and insecurity, she fears she will never be able to reach them.
Palestep entered camp with careful, hesitant steps, each paw feeling the ground before fulling placing her weight. Moons of near blindness had bred in her a cautious way of moving, even in her own camp. The unsure elements of rambunctious kits and distracted elders kept her on her toes, so to speak. Though she was only sixteen moons old - barely a warrior in the grand scope of things, she moved with the hesitance of an elder. She paused next to the fresh kill pile and dropped a fish, glad she was able to contribute something to the clan. Her lack of vision made hunting in the traditional sense impossible, but fishing was her specialty since she could simply lay at the water's edge and wait until the flash of the fish's scales before striking.
She turned to the massive tree in the center of camp with a contented, secret smile, looking forward to drying off her paws and underbelly in the warm sun of the new-leaf day. Though greenleaf was still a moon away, she could feel its heat in the air and looked forwards to the warm days ahead.
