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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Duskkit never looked like he was in the world around him. And he normally wasn't. But even his ignorance couldn't block the whispers around him. They were talking to his parents about putting him in the Senate, without even giving him a chance to become a warrior. At first, he didn't get it. Why not? And really, he still didn't quite get it. Sure, he was looked at funny, but so was everyone else. This wasn't the only reason he was sashaying towards the Priests Promised's Den though. At one point, while playing around by himself, he got stuck in a thorn bush. He was covered in them, light burrs that stuck out against the darker markings on his pelt and thin bloody lines that ran down his legs. Duskkit was always told to go to the Soothsayer if he needed help, but she wasn't around anymore, so this was his best bet. Walking right into the den, he suddenly paused mid step, looking around like he there was a ghost behind him. "Hello. Any here?"
"Duskkit?" Bloodyrondo was curled up tightly in his nest, not quite asleep but also not quite awake. All SunClan cats grieved for the loss of the Sun God one way or another but few had taken it as personally as the Priest Promised. In the absence of his father he'd made that God into a sort of surrogate, so losing him was not just losing a deity, but his family, his own blood. Delusional, sure. But that delusion had gotten Bloodyrondo past his failed attack on MoonClan, Satinlights's death even his pathetic attempt to convert DayClan. With the Sun God gone, he had no one to forgive him for his shortcomings, which meant he had to deal with them himself. He'd never done that before.
When the torbie tom stumbled into the Priest Promised's den it was an unwelcome visit but a healthy distraction. Bloodyrondo may have lost much of what he stood for but something that would never change was that he was a healer. He stretched to his feet and put his nose up to Duskkit's in greeting, "What's the matter, little one?"
Post by strawberrycupid on Aug 4, 2020 0:26:17 GMT -5
Duskkit had heard those whispers though, but allowed himself to stay ignorant. Cause there was no way. He couldn't believe the Sun God was dead. The Sun God was still here, he could hear his voice so clearly. Though even when he told others this, they gave him this look that screamed they didn't believe him. It frustrated him enough for him to start picking at the hairs on his tail. Were they just all jealous they couldn't hear him too? That must have been it.
The torbie held still as Bloodyrondo pressed his nose against his in a greeting. He seemed so sad lately, and Duskkit didn't get it. How could they live in such doubt? It made him feel blessed, a little haughty. Not that that helped this pricking feeling that covered his skin. "Little stars. Bleeding." Duskkit sat on his back paws, front paws together and his claws stretching out and sheathing themselves over and over.
"She has plenty of lives. She will be fine," It seemed odd to comfort Duskkit about Littlestar's current health when Bloodyrondo wasn't so sure if he ever wanted her back on her paws. She'd committed the greatest sin of all, killing a God, and it didn't matter how deluded Bloodyrondo was, there was no way he could justify that.
Bloodyrondo sighed. These were not the sort of questions a kit should be wrestling with. He put his paw over Duskkit's and pushed down slightly, aiming to separate his front paws, "Careful now, wouldn't want you hurting yourself, would we?"
Post by strawberrycupid on Sept 15, 2020 14:32:20 GMT -5
Duskkit blinked, then blinked again. What was he talking about? That wasn't what he was talking about at all. His brain was already boiling over, new information just spilling over before evaporating on the stovetop. His eyes showed it, a sort of blank innocence over them. He never was really told the events that happened, only hearing them through whispers and retaining about half. With a huff, he reached one of his paws down to his side, working one of the thorns out of his skin before presenting it to Bloodyrondo.
