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!
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"Oh," Orchidpaw's voice was soft with surprise as they came to a stop in the clearing. That explained part of the hurt she'd seen in him. She knew it wasn't the full story, but she knew it was too soon to probe deeper. She appreciated his honesty, and decided that if he asked more about her she'd share a bit more freely.
"That must have been a lot to process," she said. "And still must be. I know what it feels like to be burdened with things, and I'm sorry that you had to go through all of that." Her sapphire eyes focused on him without pity, but with understanding and empathy. "I'm glad you got out, in the end, and I'll try my best to make up for your lack of training."
Without more sentimentality, she directed him into a basic fighting pose. She knew he could hunt at least a little bit, so she decided to focus more on combat first. Despite her doubts, she was a good teacher, able to give clear and concise instructions, pointing out areas to improve on in terms of his posture and movement without making it seem like it was a deficiency. Still, Orchidpaw taught him how she'd been taught, and she wasn't quite sure how to compensate for his limp, since she didn't have one. "I promise I'll think about it and ask my mentor how one would fight with a limp. It's not something that will hinder if you learn to work with it," she told him, after they'd sank down into a seated position in the lavender twilight, streaked with silver clouds. She was tired, from the hour of instruction and her own training, and was glad to take a moment to rest.
His only acknowledgement of her sympathy was a gruff, uncomfortable cough as he cleared his throat. Crow deeply appreciated it, but as he hadn't opened up to many others about it, he was unsure how to go about verbalizing his gratitude. The ensuing training marathon was a godsend for the inky black cat, something to focus on.
His stance was wobbly and echoed his inexperience, reminiscent of how a kit might poise themself into a battle posture after watching the apprentices practice. Even under Orchidpaw's helpful instruction, he saw little improvement that day other than feeling himself become slightly more comfortable melting into it, but as far as how to maneuver himself in ways that wouldn't trip him up, that would still require some work from the both of them. His hindered leg could neither faithfully swipe nor hold up his body weight to allow the other leg to make up for its lacking strength, which left him relying on his back claws. There was an upside in his lapse in knowledge being that he only needed to learn skills, as opposed to the difficulty that would have come from having to replace learned behaviors with new ones.
"Thank you, Orchidpaw," he huffed between exhausted breaths. Though this could be considered the lightest portion of their workload, his muscles flared from the strain, and Crow briefly contemplated on how nice it would be to never move again. Thin, shadowy fingers clawed at the last remnants of daylight as little, twinkling stars began to punctuate the encroaching nightfall. Were he to close his eyes, blot out that wild firelight gaze, he too would disappear. "It's almost time for you to be going, huh?" Crow wasn't sure why he spoke it aloud, his voice tinged with an unsettling despondency.
"Yes, almost," Orchidpaw said, reluctant as well. This had been a nice reprieve from the stress of camp and her duties, and it felt good to teach and watch Crow make his very minimal improvement. By helping him, she felt like she was helping herself- and she undoubtedly liked the company of the black tom. "You did good today. You're a dedicated pupil." Her tone was genuine, but lighthearted to avoid putting too much pressure on him.
"I have a few more minutes before I have to go. The other cats won't be looking for me- they know I like to be alone, generally." Orchidpaw stretched out her white forelegs, rippling silver in the growing moonlight. Her soft fur was buffeted by the breeze, her scar highlighted white on her face. She fell silent then, already deep in thought about how best to proceed with Crow's training. He needed some physical conditioning, but how best to go about it?
She lifted her paw to rub at her itchy scar again. "I really enjoyed this though," she said after a long pause, casting a somewhat bashful glance over at the tom. "It's different from being in camp, and that can get really monotonous."
For a split second a little, green, envious worm snuck its way into his heart and tried to bury itself in the warmth, only to incinerate itself in the fire wrapped tightly around it. As much as it saddened him to know she would leave, and as much as he longed for company to keep the cold out, he was glad that she would not be sleeping under the stars tonight. Crow was used to nights alone, embraced by the moon and summer's blanketing heat, but now the dusky goddess flirted winter's promise in the air. The worst part of his newfound lifestyle.
He whisked these thoughts away as though with the flick of his tail, drawing it across the earth every which way. "It's nice to have someone to talk to. I think I was beginning to go insane from only talking and hearing myself talk back," he chuckled, but there was an unfortunate truth poorly concealed.
Fractured sunlight was snuffed out by the velvet of twilight, marking that their time that day was up-- and Crow, clinging to a few extra moments, spoke up in a hushed, reaching voice, "Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to, if it's too soon."
"Sure," Orchidpaw said, equally quiet and solemn, remembering her earlier decision to be honest with him if he asked. Maybe she wasn't comfortable with the people in camp, but there was something about sharing with someone you knew was equally broken that made it less difficult. Not less difficult to relive it, but less difficult to open up about it. Sharing a burden lightened the load on your shoulders.
In a way, she was eager for the lightness. "You can ask whatever you want, and I'll be as honest as I can bear to be," she told him. "Since you've been so open with me." She appreciated his honesty, since it was something she so aspired to as well. So, in the hushed time between day and night, when vulnerability came a little more easily- and with the tom who made her feel a little more young and lighthearted- she was open to sharing.
Many might recoil from the sight of such a blemish in abject horror, seeing only the scar for its history of violence and not the wound underneath. They did not see flesh that tirelessly stitched back together as one may stitch their life back together. They did not understand that, though pain itself subsides, there was that phantom ache-- that everlasting affliction-- that would never quite be curbed by any herbs or therapy. Crow, however, knew better. He knew and understood pain inside and out, understood that it manifested itself in many ways, and knew that scars were not a blemish but a visible memory.
It had been along the line of questioning she'd expected, so it didn't hit her as hard as it might have normally. She closed her eyes, remembering the searing pain that had flared across her face, and the events that followed- the sights that burned for far longer than a simple gash.
"My family was attacked by rogues," she said simply. "Two months ago. They were twisted, and they wanted to mess with my parents before they killed them. They... they told them to pick one of us- me or my sister- to live. They chose me." She saw the glance that Crow gave her, wondering why she had received the wound if she had been the one chosen to live. "But I couldn't watch my sister die. I took the initial blow for her, so she could get away. I fled after her, but... well, my parents weren't so lucky." Her voice was cool, mechanical as she spoke of the worst night of her life.
There were more details, ones that would come with time and trust. One day, she hoped she would be able to speak about the way her mother had called after them, choking on the blood that welled in her throat, or the way her father had been dead before his body his the ground. There had been the terrifying pursuit of the killers, the blood that wouldn't stop flowing from her face, the terror as they'd encountered Summerclan warriors who'd taken in the terrified young sisters and sheltered them from their attackers. But those memories got caught in her throat, and she couldn't vocalize them. Not yet. Even speaking of this much was an accomplishment for Orchidpaw, and it was only because she thought highly of this renegade- how high in her esteem he already was, he couldn't have known.
There was a lot unspoken-- haunted images behind her eyes, which avoided his as she spoke, but Crow could look nowhere else than at her, and she looked everywhere else. She didn't need to say anything else, though, for he knew enough of horror to take a stab at all the millions of possibilities for what this aching, resilient cat had endured. Her strength exceeded his own, Crow unsure he could ever come out on the other side as lucky as Orchidpaw-- though, he was sure she would not consider herself lucky.
"I'm sorry." Those words felt small and lacking. They did not do justice to the deep, blazing sorrow in the pit of his stomach. They did not rewind time, nor revive the dead, nor strike down murderous rogues; they were only words, powerless, pitiful. And yet, they were all he could muster, all he could do, except lean his shoulder a little to the side and let his fur brush against her own, black peppering into white. Words did not convey his feelings, but he hoped she could sense it through the blood boiling beneath his flesh.
"Thank you," Orchidpaw responded simply, not trusting her voice to say more. They sat in the dusk, listening to the crickets chirp, until he leaned her shoulder into her. It was such a small gesture of comfort, but that was all it took to break Orchidpaw's heart into two again. Her chest lurched, working to contain the burning sob that threatened to burst out of her.
She hadn't spoken to anyone about this. The only other cat she wanted to talk about it with was Rosepaw, and her rejection was another heartbreak that plagued Orchidpaw. So to be touched this simply, to be reminded that cats cared about her beyond her fighting abilities and her cool persona, to be reminded that there was goodness and kindness in the world, made her overwhelmed.
The snowy she cat turned her head, burying it in the warmth of Crow's neck as a few silent tears fell, hot, from her closed eyes. It was a wordless gesture, an acceptance of his friendship and support, and a desperate grab for more of the warmth his presence caused in her heart.
Her tears scorched his flesh, and he was sure he would bear the marks of every single one for the rest of his life. He would not speak for several long moments, instead allowing her silence to cry and process and feel without his prying voice, and his tail would absently curl across her back in soft strokes. "Whatever you need," were the first words he dared say, "I'm here. I promise."
And that did not come lightly. Crow had nothing to his name: He had no esteem nor honor, no skill to vouch, and his friends were few and far between, but integrity? That he had in spades, but he reserved it for he deemed were close enough to his heart to know its true meaning. Orchidpaw was not someone he knew for long, but if she had been the world, he would have been Atlas and he would lift her problems onto his own shoulders. He only wished there was more he could offer, some way to turn back the clock, save her from the pain that fractured her soul the same way her scar splintered her skin.
What was it about the two of them, the similarities between their pasts, that made it so easy to talk to Crow? She would have normally been mortified to be crying in front of someone, but there was no judgment, no awkwardness with this tom she had so recently met. Orchidpaw, so young and burdened and lonely, drew comfort from his touch.
After a long moment of silence, she pulled away, wiping away the last of her tears with her paw. "Thank you," she said again, sincerely, a small smile of embarrassment on her face. "You've been so kind to me. I hope I can repay that one day." Looking again at the sky, she sighed. "I really do have to go now, though. I... I look forward to seeing you tomorrow," she admitted, looking down at the leaf-covered ground.
In the absence of her touch, a chilly breeze twisted into his fur, and Crow echoed a somber, "Tomorrow." He had a sneaking suspicion that the departures each day would only get harder from here as they began to enjoy each other's friendship more and more and the air grew colder. But instead of allowing himself to remain solemn, he quirked a lofty grin at her. "You can bring the prey tomorrow. Your turn. I expect nothing less than a three course meal fit for a king."
His bonfire eyes regarded her momentarily then turned away, Crow departing to find himself some shelter for the night.
im just gonna skippity a few days into the future oops
Crow enjoyed their routine. Every other day he would put his newly learned skills to the test to bring them prey, with relative success, and whichever days were Orchidpaw's to supply the meals, he would poke gentle fun at how he would soon surpass her abilities. They would share details of the events, Orchidpaw obviously with more to say on that front, but today he sat eager to share his own plans he'd spent the night thinking about. He shifted back and forth between his paws in a jittery little dance until he squinted, leaned for, and strained to discern if that shadow in the overgrowth was truly manifesting itself into a slender white cat or if he was finally descending into absolute madness.
It was indeed Orchidpaw emerging from the bushes, her snowy form highlighted in late day sun. It was always easy to see Orchidpaw, which was part of why she was much better at fighting than hunting. Hunting required her to stay mostly hidden in the bushes until she could pounce, otherwise her prey saw her coming.
As she had every day so far, she greeted Crow with a genuine smile. Seeing him had quickly become the best part of her day, and she enjoyed the progress he was making. She had learned a few techniques for compensating for a stiff leg, and they had been experimenting bit by bit to see if they would help.
"Good evening," she told him, with the same tone she always had when first seeing him- an odd mixture of cheer and something close to bashfulness. Her shyness wore away as they talked each evening, but seeing him always made her stomach do a strange somersault that she wasn't ready to analyze. "How was your day?"
His stomach flush with tiny pterodactyls, which sank needling talons into his nerves, he mirrored her smile and the joy in it. Rogue life offered him a freedom clan cats could only guess at, yet the ebony cat did not venture too far from SummerClan in fear of being late to their meet ups, but the sights nearby were pretty. Crow enjoyed the soft kiss of the grass on his pads, marveled over how the leaves overhead began to blush deeper with each day, selfishly loved to laze about whenever and wherever he pleased, and seeing Orchidpaw everyday-- well, the world paled in comparison.
"Hey," he returned, slicked with a purr, "I've actually had a full day today. There's something I found that I'd like to show you, if you don't mind walking a bit further than usual. We can head there now, and you can tell me about your day." They had not gone further than that secret hollow-- and he could not convince himself she would even accept-- but Crow wore an expression of eagerness and expectation.
"Sure!" Orchidpaw's eyes lit up with curiosity, and she followed as Crow led the way, wondering what he could've found that made his face so bright. As they walked, she found herself chattering aimlessly. She was so quiet around others that when and Crow met up in the evenings the words came bursting forth like water from a dam.
Today's tale was about how another apprentice had gotten her foot stuck in a mouse hole, and how the others had been sent to dig her out. It was thankfully not a serious event, and was one she could already laugh over. "I'm just glad it wasn't me," she said, flicking her ear back. "I'd never live it down. They take me so seriously in camp. Are we almost there?"
He was happy to let his friend dominate the conversation, not just because she had more to input but because he genuinely enjoyed listening, and he wojld respond when a response was necessary or to drop in a bad joke. He snickered something along the lines of 'They should rename her Mousefoot for her warrior ceremony' right before swatting Orchidpaw's nose with his tail. "Hey now, can't just stop and smell the orchids?" Oh yeah, he got funnier every day. Then, more seriously, he said, "We're almost there. Can you hear it?"
In between the chitter of birds and the crunch of leaves underfoot, all of which was become more sparse the closer they came to Crow's destination, the push and pull of waves against a nearing shore could be heard. The terrain began to shift to something more gritty and infinitely more familiar to him, the beach sands welcoming them to the edge of the world, as Crow would call it. It didn't look special at all, but there was some glint of knowing in his eyes that would be hard to miss, brightening the already glowing irises. "We have to wait until it gets dark, but until then, I wanted to get your opinion on something. I've been thinking about gathering some cats together and making a group. I'm not sure if it's a good idea-- hell, I doubt anyone would even want to follow me-- but I think it would be nice to see about finding some others who share my beliefs. I want to do something good."
His ears flattened and his skin was ghostly beneath that dark carapace, but despite his reservations, Crow spoke with a conviction that was embedded so deeply in his heart that it could have been woven into the very molecules that created him. Unbeknownst to him, his father and his uncle shared that same conviction in their own hearts.
Orchidpaw felt the terrain change under her feet, her curiosity piqued by the sound of water. She personally didn't have much experience with large body of waters, but she did like the way they looked- though it was still out of sight for the moment. As Crow talked about his idea, about gathering other cats, she nodded thoughtfully.
"I think that's a good idea," she told him, smiling softly in the dusk. "It'd be good for you to have company more of the time, to be surrounded by cats who are on the same page as you." It might mean less time with him, if he were busy leading others, and that made her smile falter a bit.
Orchidpaw had seen enough of Crow over the passing days to know he had a good heart, under his bluster and jokes. "I think anyone would be lucky to follow you," she said shyly, whiskers twitching as she glanced away.
In that moment he was thankful for the abyssal pitch of his fur, for what was previously blanched now erupted into a blushing pink. "Thanks, but I'm not sure if everyone thinks like you. Too bad there aren't more of you in the world. It would be a lot nicer," he said truthfully.
As they reached the shoreline, he broke away to move ahead at a more eager pace, stopping only once his toes were kissed by the waters. His first moon of life having been in the desert, then in SunClan's mostly treacherous terrain, when he'd found the ocean, Crow had been enraptured. Lakes and streams brought him peace, but the open expanse of the sea, limits unknown and unsean, reminded him of how vast the world truly was. He often wondered what it was like on the other side.
"What's your favorite place to be, Orchidpaw?" Though they visited every day, he knew little of what she liked or places that comforted her. They had dove into hidden depths but had barely scratched the surface.
"My favorite place..." Orchidpaw said thoughtfully, wandering to the edge of the waterline but hesitating to put her feet in. "Probably one of the meadows in Summerclan. I like being along there, surrounded by wildflowers and birdsong. It helps me clear my head and it reminds me of the beauty in the world."
She could tell by watching him that he loved this place already, that his shoulders relaxed when he got to this place that smelled of salt and sounded of gentle waves. Her interest in him was raised as well- she knew bits of his background and of his character, but it was true that they hadn't talked much about the lighter sides of their personality.
"This is the ocean, right? I've heard the term before." The snow white she-cat smiled over at Crow. "What draws you here?"
He could envision Orchidpaw in a meadow just the way she described, pearly white fur stark against blooming flowers. "Meadows are pretty. I've never stopped and listened to the birds, though. Sometimes they get annoying."
By now the sun scarcely hovered the horizon. It would soon fall asleep, tucked away into the fading spectrum, and it its place twilight would unravel from between. streaks of golds and pinks and deepening blues. The cloudless sky would only be interrupted by the glimmer of starlight. The waters lapping against his legs were dark and eerie, but ever so slowly, bright blue stars began to shine as though a reflection of the sky. But on closer inspection, they weren't just reflections; they were small creatures swimming along the shoreline, glowing bright in the darkness.
"This is what I wanted to show you and something that draws me here. The ocean is so mysterious. It makes me wonder what it's like on the other side," Crow told her. He retreated back to the sands, not without splashing some water droplets in her direction.
