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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Windsweptsoul peered around before burying his bundle. He had seen what Dottymask made some of the demonic apprentices eat and felt terrible. So he had caught himself a meal, nibbled on it to make it look at least somewhat eaten. It was still mostly intact so he wrapping it in moss to keep the dirt off. It was then covered very poorly by dirt. It was somehow not even one of his well thought out plans, oddly enough it was impulsive for him. So now as he put on the finishing touches he was questioning his plans. What if Rottenpaw didn’t like pika? What if he wasn’t hungry or didn’t find it? What if somehow he got in trouble for eating properly? Windsweptsoul knew regardless he himself would not get in trouble just Rottenpaw would.
Trying very hard to be sneaky he hid behind some rocks. The large seal point warrior was tucked between the rocks, though tufts of his light fur was visible blowing in the wind. He was not the greatest at ambush tactics or covert skills, if his hiding was anything to go off of. Windsweptsoul was much better at things on paper than real world things. He could plan for a task, but never think about how the weather would effect his plans. Someone always had to pont those problems out to him. Yet he had bravely decided to not ask for help, even from his family for this. The less people involved the better.
Rottenpaw crept through camp, his head and tail lowered like an omega wolf creeping past the alphas of the pack. The slightest noise caused his tail to slip between his legs, a characteristic about himself that he wasn't proud to display, but everyone loved to exploit. Everyone knew that past dusk the demons prowled camp, losing their honor, digging up filthy bits of dirt covered, drooled on prey. For Rottenpaw any prey that wasn't spoiled was like tasting a little piece of heaven.
Approaching the buried prey he scraped at the ground, briefly looking around his surroundings like a feral animal searching for predators. His mother picked on him the most for the trouble he got his brother into when he was younger. Because of that it wasn't uncommon for her to scold him for digging up prey if even one person was still awake in the clan. She wasn't a fan of having her children dig around for trash in public even though everyone knew it.
He paused for a moment when he realized this cat buried moss. What the heck? It was only when the wind blew over that he saw the tuft of fur flimsily move. Starvation took over him as he engulfed the prey, savoring it none of it and devouring all of it, but the bones. Rottenpaw's eyes went from thin monstrous snake eyed slits to expanding once more to his regular self. He licked at his paw before spotting Windsweptsoul's fur, freezing momentarily in place. He never trusted a cat, only demons like himself. "What?" He said in a casual tone that border lined on being snippy. Ever since Brindlepaw and Rosepaw teamed up on him he had grown to realize that no matter how kind someone was they would always treat him rotten. If they didn't they would be punished, that was how it worked.
Windsweptsoul stuck his head up, he knew he probably would have been sorted but it still surprised him. For once he did not wax poetically or ramble on a path of theoretical nonsense, instead he was speechless. “I, uh thought ... well you see... food is good yes?” He tried to figure out why he did this. Truth it was perhaps the bare minimum standard of care in others clans, but the was WinterClan. Something about the silver tom catch his eye and he just could say way. Perhaps it was his eyes there were a rather captivating shade of amber. They were slightly reptilian and paired with his elongated fangs, gave him a snake like essence. Perhaps it was the fact that he was slightly snake-like and snakes were dangerous was what attracted him. Or it was the fact that he was supposed to be scorned and this meeting would be considered forbidden. It was probably both though, a dangerous forbidden relationship was supposed to have a lot of allure. He realized that he had been staring at Rottenpaw for what more than what was considered appropriate even for an outcast.
He worked his fluffy frame out of the rocks to show that he meant no harm. Shaking off the little boys of gravel that stuck to his fur, he smiled softly at the apprentice. Clearly no one could be that hostile at such a young age. Granted he wasn’t treated well but still. Windsweptsoul has never known true pain or suffering. He had a nice family that cared for him and was one of the small number of true pure blood WinterClan, which gave him a bit of boost socially under Wintrystar. He know that he was privileged beyond means that Rottenpaw could ever imagine. Granted he had lost his grandmother, but the rest of the family helped dull the pain of that. “I can go.” He gestured almost randomly with his tail to the darkened expanse of the territory, not even realizing it.
