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.
Clear green eyes are perhaps the first thing you notice about Sanguinerose, the second being her long, flowing pelt and delicate ears. The she-cat is like a walking flame, lithe and limber as fire licking at the sky above. Her chest and paws are cream, and her form is generally quite small and unformed for combat. The she-cat's gaze is piercing, often times capable of drawing more than you meant to say out of you, but compassionate and kind nonetheless. Though a loyal and devout Sun God worshiper as any SunClan cat must be, she also finds solace in the security and love her family and clan provide her. She is always there with a quiet laugh or kind word, though to her chagrin her temper flares here and there, often when something or someone endangers or insults her loved ones. Others often joke that her temper matches her pelt - hot on top but, deep down, a gentle cat. She doesn't like hearing her clanmates belittle one another, but doesn't mind hearing them belittle outsiders very much. After all, she and her clanmates are the Sun's chosen cats, meaning that those outside of the clan weren't worthy of being blessed in the first place. Surely there's nothing wrong with poking fun at cats lesser than them? Regardless, she isn't much for gossip and grows tired of it quickly. Instead, she loves to listen whenever she gets the chance to hear the Janus speak, relishing any snippets of their illustrious history she can.
ooc ;; bloody gave her an embarrassing name at the gathering and she couldn't do anything about it since they were in public so sanguine has now saved her rage for the lucky priest promised back at camp. the majority of it comes from sleep deprivation which bloody should be able to notice after a bit, but some of it is also from the stress of suddenly being part of this huge, powerful family on lionpride's side. congrats, you've both been invited to a plot entirely of my creation without asking! xD
Rage simmered in her soul as she stalked down the sandstone ramp towards the Priest Promised's den. The jokes around camp about her temper had never seemed more true than in this moment, as the ginger she-cat cleared the path with little more than a look and a snarl. Her pelt was messy and her eyes were ringed with red, but that was the least of the queen's concerns at the moment. "Call me that in front of other cats," she muttered under her breath, mixing in expletives she'd only heard apprentice's practicing late at night.
"Bloodyrondo!" she howled, stomping into his den in a righteous rage. "I held my tongue long enough. I don't care what excuses you might have for your behavior, I expect an apology right now!" Her pride wasn't typically fragile, but after bearing an entire litter of kits and nursing two extra ones, she was in a somewhat delicate mental condition and his words in front of other cats - cats she could only image were making fun of her right now behind her back! - sent her to defcon one.
Bloodyrondo winced when Sanguinerose called out his name and put his paws over his ears. Laying next to his nest haphazardly strewn about were various herbs, most notably feverfew and chamomile, as well as a bit of ground up ginger and a water-laden moss ball. He opened his eyes, red-rimmed but for different reasons, as he surveyed the threat, "Not now. Go away."
The Priest Promised's voice was little more than a croak. His body paint somehow still clinging to his fur but it was dull and flaky; he normally did a good job of cleaning up before sleep but not last night. To be blunt he looked a mess. Damn fever melons. He didn't have it in him to deal with whatever Sanguinerose's problem was and just wanted to go back to sleep as soon as possible.
