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!
News & Updates
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.
Firetooth sat alone on a low-hanging branch, facing the sunset. The Medicine Cat wasn't much of a climber, and considering that he was still recovering from his near-fatal injuries, probably shouldn't be up in a tree to begin with. Nevertheless, he felt like he needed a quiet, secluded place to gather his thoughts. The weather was just perfect; warm but with a nice, cool breeze that slightly ruffled his ginger fur. He continued to silently stare at the sun as it slowly lowered beyond the horizon, when he suddenly heard a twig snap behind him. Firetooth's head turned in the direction of the sound, blinking in surprise when he saw who it was. "Oh, hi. Didn't expect to see anyone out here this late."
"Sorry...uhhh, Firetooth, right?" Thunderrumble spoke. The silver tabby tom had been the Nightclan's former deputy and previously known as Larkwing until Flamingstar staged an accident to steal his position. However, he had made it back to the home but was very ill. Flamingstar had ordered Ahava, Nightclan's medicine cat apprentice, to end Larkwing's life to secure her leadership position. Though, with the help of the medicine cats and a few of his former clan mates, he managed to escape and faked his death. They brought him to Swiftclan territory where Larkwing was held up in the medicine den until he was cured of his illness and later renamed Thunderrumble to keep hidden from Flamingstar. Now, he is cured and learning the ways of Swiftclan.
"Yeah." Firetooth confirmed with a curt nod, his tail swinging off of the side of the branch curiously. The Medicine Cat had never been one to pay much attention to clan politics, except on occasions where it directly or indirectly affected him, and he never particularly cared much for Nightclan anyway. Obviously he could tell where Thunderrumble originally hailed from - the other tom practically stunk with Nightclan's scent still - but neither knew nor was interested whatever past he was running from. Everyone who joined Swiftclan was running from something. "You joined a couple days ago, right? What's your name?"
"My name's Lar-ehem. Thunderrumble." He responded, having to correct himself. He still wasn't used to being called Thunderrumble. "I just wanted to thank you for caring for me while I was ill. I apologize for not being able to properly introduce myself. I appreciate you graciously taking your time to cure a cat you didn't even know." He dipped his head. "I'm in your debt."
"It's my job," Firetooth replied with a noncommittal shrug, resting his head on his paws as he stared down at Thunderrumble. "An injured cat is an injured cat; no matter who they are or where they're from. Any healer who says otherwise doesn't deserve their title or the time of day with Starclan." His eyes narrowed slightly as he observed his newfound companion and the overly courteous and polite apology - a stark difference from the causal and carefree regard of authority that most of the younger Swiftclan warriors lived by.
The silver and white tabby tom let out a small chuckle. "Your not wrong about that but, unfortunately, there are clans that have medicine cats who would turn down an outsider. So for your hospitality, I am grateful." He took a seat below the branch and wrapped his tail around his white paws. "I didn't only come to seek you out to thank you. I also came to offer my assistance. Since I am cured, I thought I could repay your kindness with some hard work."
The Medicine Cat blinked in mild surprise at the offer, not replying immediately but instead rising to his paws, staying carefully balanced on the branch as he leaned forward to stretch his back, his jaws widening in a yawn as he did so. Firetooth looked down at Thunderrumble again, observing the other tom's well-built form; he looked decently strong, if not a natural fighter. "Alright," he finally agreed after appearing to mull it over for a moment, giving a noncommittal shrug. "I'm...out of an apprentice at the moment, so I could use a new pack mule, as well as a bodyguard. Should be enough to get Chimerastar off my tail after last time." He subtly lifted his head, revealing a ring of freshly-healed scars that circled his neck, a wound that many claimed was a miracle he survived.
Thunderrumble stood up and took a step back, his bright blue eyes widening in horror. "Chimerastar...did that to you?" His voice was shaky as he examined the scars. What did he just get himself into? Perhaps Nightclan was better than Swiftclan. At least their leader didn't try to cut their medicine cat's throat out.
Firetooth faltered, staring at Thunderumble in complete confusion before finally realizing the implication, and immediately burst into a fit laughter. "W-what?! Are you kidding? Chimerastar might look scary, but he's as soft-hearted as they come!" As his chuckles died down, he noticed how shaken the warrior looked, and his expression sobered. "Dear Starclan, you're as skittish as a rabbit, aren't you? Maybe bodyguard isn't a good fit after all... Regardless, all Chimerastar did was chew my ears out after I got caught in a twoleg trap when I went out too far into rogue territory by myself. If it wasn't for another Medicine Cat who happened to be nearby, I would've died out there. Of course, I nearly died of blood loss anyway thinking I could make the trek back to camp..."
Thunderrumble instantly warmed under his fur and rubbed his front leg with his forepaw in embarrassment. "Oh, right" he chuckled nervously. "I-Im sorry. I suppose I'm a little jumpy after finding out that my own leader wanted to off my head. I guess I still expect someone to find me and turn me in or want to do it themselves so everything has me a little paranoid." He felt like a failure. He was suppose to be Nightclan's leader but Flamingstar had become too powerful to go up against.
