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.
Softpelt sat at the pool. She'd been coming here every night since the day SpringClan had launched their attack on the league with SummerClan.
Since Thistlestar had been severely injured and seemed fractured in a way that no matter Softpelt and Fawnheart's efforts they couldn't bring him back to strength. Fawnheart was optimistic that one day he'd make a full recovery... But as the days passed it was becoming uncertain whether it would be anytime soon.
To make matters worse... Viperstream had disappeared after the battle. There'd been murmurings that he'd grown increasingly violent during the battle. But it was only murmurings, Softpelt knew nothing for certain.
Only that he was gone.
And that left SpringClan in a tight spot.
Their leader too injured to carry out his duties at the moment, and no deputy to step up in the interim.
Thistlestar hadn't even the strength to name a new deputy, and it was making Softpelt worried...
So after leaving him with Fawnheart to watch over him several nights ago, Softpelt had gone wandering. Her paws unconsciously taking her to the spot beneath the cherry blossom tree. The tree she'd confessed her love to Birchshade at, and that she intended to join SpringClan, many many moons ago.
A crystal pool of water was at the base of the tree, and she'd found herself drawn to it. And when she'd peered into it, the surface had rippled and showed her an image of her standing atop the stump back in SpringClan camp. The glitter of starlight in her eyes.
Softpelt had jerked back, horrified by the image. She couldn't be leader of SpringClan. She was a medicine cat apprentice. Regardless of her and Fawnheart being practically equals. Of all jobs, leadership was not one she was ready to take. She could mother, she could heal, she could teach, but lead? Such a task was far too daunting.
But what was she to do? Every night, the pool gave her the same vision. And every dawn, Thistlestar didn't wake enough to name a new successor.
SpringClan couldn't go on like this forever, something needed to change.
