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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Post by kawaiilesbian on Aug 23, 2020 10:32:19 GMT -5
The pine tree branches were pregnant with morning dew - the weight causing the limbs to sag as the pearl drops slowly dripped off of the strongly scented green needles. This was Celestialdreamer’s favorite part of waking up early, when the rising sun brought bird songs and life while the chill morning air still nipped at her broad nose. It was a time that lacked violence or anger, vibrating with the prosperity of a new day. This was also her favorite time because it meant less cats to stare as well. Celestialdreamer enjoyed clan life - she really did - it was a family she never even could have dreamed she would have - but while she was settling in just fine the others still eyed her warily. The queens flinched when the 30lb she-cat would pass by their kits, warriors tensed for a fight, and apprentices shuffled their paws and avoided eye contact in discomfort. The only ones who did not seem to fear her giant size and silver capped fangs was the kits. They found her humongous size entertaining - constantly using her for climbing practice and letting out squeals of delight in her ears - these sessions were always short lived though. Eventually, the queens would cuff softly - sending a giggling mass of kittens back into the nursery under the watchful eye of their mother. The she-cat shook her head - forcing her negative thoughts to the back of her mind. “A beautiful morning like this wasn’t made to pitty myself,” she thought as she stretched open her jaws to scent the air. Her hot breath came out in one long steamy huff past her long silver capped fangs - her tongue lulling out as the scenting turning into a yawn.
The dew clinging to the grass and the branches only served to irritate him further. Floodfate was an early riser, but sometimes he wondered if it was worth the effort. A day like this, when the sun was just beginning yet his short fur was already wet from brushing up against dewdrops, usually ended poorly for him. He only kept to the morning schedule because it meant he avoided most of the other NightClan cats. Floodfate had joined the clan several moons ago now, but even now that he was a full warrior, all he was proving was how adept he was at dodging conversations. Some cats didn't bother trying to talk to him anymore. That would have suited him fine if he wasn't so lonely these days.
He entered the camp with a wad of moss in his jaws for his nest. His early morning hunt had been fruitless, so he detoured to bring some moss home to pad his nest before he headed out again. Floodfate ducked past the large she-cat into the den, wrinkling his muzzle distastefully as her hot breath blew past him. The tom, who was just a tad smaller than the average cat, set down his moss to shoot her a cold look.
"Do you have to do that right in the entrance to the warrior's den?"
