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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It was two moons now since the tragedy of their stillborns as well as the blessing of Foxkit's life, his son now walking and talking but also frequently ending up in Ahava's den due to his health problems, and Phantomfox wasn't sure how to handle it all beyond closing off and distancing himself from everything. Maybe that made him a bad mate and father, and it certainly made him a harsher captain, but he felt more like it was himself against the stars, battling their will on his own rather than beside Rosethorn, who was especially absent lately. He cursed their presence in the sky, the stars twinkling mirthlessly back at him.
Perhaps it was this deep-seated irreverence in the ancestors, whose favor he'd lost when he accepted their lives then turned away from leadership, that had him awake past the sunrise, the remainder of NightClan taking refuge from the light in their dens. The scars on his face were more monstrous in the daylight, no lurid moonshine to soften them, and they created harsh lines in his visage as the large chocolate tom sauntered across camp to the nursery, prodding his son out of sleep. "Foxkit. Come on, son," he urged, taking care to not rouse his mate. "Let's take a walk."
Foxkit had always had strange dreams, at least from the moment he started remembering his dreams. They were vague and blurred, but always of his family. Or at least, what he thought was his family. He could only recognize his mother and father, but something had always told him that the blurry other figures were the siblings that didn't make it. He hadn't told anyone about his dreams, though. By two moons old, he was already aware that some things were meant to be kept to himself. Although he didn't understand his parents' sadness, not really, he had a feeling that sharing would only cause them to become more sad. He was having one of those dreams when his father came in the den. He was playing mossball with one of the blurry figures. He was about to toss the ball back when his father's touch jolted him awake.
"Uraghsw." The first noise the kitten made wasn't really a word, but was more than a noise. His pale ashen eyes blinked a few times, the sun burning them. "But dad!" he whined once he was a little bit more awake. "It's so early!"
Foxkit was not the only one haunted by his siblings, and like his son, Phantomfox mourned them privately for the very same reasons, but there was also the constant, pervading reminder of Foxkit's name sake which existed in his rich red fur. It was sometimes hard to look directly at his son and that was another thing that weighed heavily on him. What kind of father was he?
"I know it is, son. Early cat catches the mouse. I thought you'd want to see the sunrise for once," he said, nosing the kitten softer this time. During the night the camp was certainly enchanting in its mystery, but there was something beautiful about how the morning light refracted in the crystals and cast pretty rainbows around the cenote.
Because he was just a kitten, and kind of an airheaded one at that, he was completely oblivious to the torment of his father. He didn't notice that his father struggled to look at him, and Foxkit certainly didn't feel unloved. He was the only kitten in the nursery with parents at all, so even if he did notice some of his father's internal stress, there was nothing that would alert him to it being abnormal. This was the only thing he knew.
"Butttttttt aren't we supposed to be the late cats?" he asked as he stood up. He gave himself a quick shake to get some blood pumping through his small body, which for whatever reason, prompted him to sneeze. Most things prompted him to sneeze, though, so this was also not abnormal for him. He offered a wide grin, though, the look in his eye becoming increasingly excited. "Mama was tellin' me about the sunrise. She said that the colors remind her of me!" He beamed at the sentence, before pressing his body against his father. "I guess we can go if we gotta," he meowed, affectionately pushing himself as close to his father as possible. "But only if you tell me a story when we watch it!"
A flicker of worry passed through his silver gaze, which he diverted to glance out the nursery so Foxkit would not catch it, before looking back at the kitten and chuckling softly. "A story?" He echoed, leading then out of the den and into the empty camp. It was nice to see it so quiet and vacant, with the pretty blues of the sky beginning to shift to gold. "Very well. But you'll have to help me tell it," he told his son.
Grabbing a plump mouse for them to share, Phantonfox settled near the pool of water, inviting Foxkit to sit with him to marvel at the open sky overhead. "Once upon a time, there was a sickly little apprentice named...Noxkit." That wasn't obvious, right? "She didn't get to play as much as the other apprentices and training winded her, but her mother knew that she would be stronger than anyone else in LightClan. Her mother was right because one day, unexpectedly, the clan was overrun by huge, giant, hairy...dragons. You remember what dragons are?" He glanced down.
"Okay!" he chirped. "I bet we can tell a really great story together!" Despite his illness, he was a genuinely happy kitten. A little bit... eccentric in some of his mannerisms, but, overall, he was surprisingly welladjusted.
He settled down next to his father, resting his small head on Phantomfox's shoulder with a kit hum. His gaze lifted to the sky, the faint colors starting to ripple across the darkness. He listened to his father's tale, his ear flicking slightly. "Noxkit! She's sick too? The other kittens say that's why I am always seeing Miss Cana. I try to tell them that Mama says its good to get checked out, and Miss Cana is so nice! She even taught me what a..... um.... well she taught me the name of some herb!" Clearly, the tom was prone to being distracted. "I think Noxkit and I would be friends," he decided after a moment.
"Dragons!" he then meowed, his body quivering with excitement. "Those are... those things, right? With the big horn? And the hairy tail?" No, Foxkit, that's a unicorn. But, at least he tried, right?
"I think you and Noxkit would be good friends too," his father told him softly, with a gentle lick behind one of his ears. "She's a lot like you. Kind and brave, giving, genuine, and strong." Foxkit would never have the muscle his denmates would gain. He would never run without outrunning his breath. He would never outgrow his health problems. But no one could convince Phantomfox that anyone could surpass his son's sheer love for life and will to survive. "You'll have to ask Miss Cana about that herb again soon. I don't know anything about those," he added.
"Close," Phantomfox conceded to Foxkit's excited, but incorrect, guesses. "Dragons are very huge snakes with mouths filled with fangs and legs tipped by long claws. These dragons that threatened LightClan were envoys from SinClan, their mortal enemy, and were protected by thick, glistening feathers imbued with a special power from the sun that could create fire on their bodies. But LightClan had a power too, the power of light that shone out of darkness." As if on cue, the sun's rays grew brighter and scored bright trails through the remainder of the twilight, gold twining through the violet shades. "What are the brightest things in a night sky, Foxkit?"
He smiled at his father's words. He liked to make friends, even if most of the kittens made fun of him for being a little less capable than they were. He also felt his smile widen when his father said she was strong. If she was like him, that meant he was strong, too! "I'll ask her next time I see her!" he replied in his chipper tone.
He then shuddered at his father's description of a dragon. "They sound scary!" he meowed with a slight tremble, his gaze locked on Phantomfox. "If a dragon came to NightClan, would you fight him for me?" He chimed in before his father could continue. When the sky changed, he found his gaze shifting to it with a flick of his tail. It sure was pretty. When his dad asked him a question, the sickly tom perked again. "Well, there are two things that are the brightest! The stars are always out, and they're pretty bright! But sometimes, the moon gets so bright when it's not hiding. Mom says sometimes it has to sleep and that's why it isn't out all the time."
He laughed quietly at his son's outburst. "They are scary, but you never have to be scared of them. You have your mom and I, and we will fight every scary monster for you. One day, you'll fight them with us," he promised.
"Your mom is right. The moon and the stars watch over us throughout the night and protect us, so they rest when we do. Every single star up there is a soul that once walled this earth, and sometimes, when a new cat rises to leadership, those same souls come down and give us the strength of their lives." He spoke with a deep reverence, but there was a twinge of anger beginning to manifest that he forced back. Foxkit would make his own determination on the ancestors once he got older, and Phantomfox didn't want to do anything to sway that, though he was still at odds with their ancestors. Shifting slightly, he realigned his thoughts to the story and continued, "Noxkit was not a deputy or a leader, of course, but even StarClan knew she was special. They gave her their strength from the moon and all the stars in the sky, and she began to glow, becoming the only light in the night. She became LightClan itself. What do you think Noxkit did with her new power?" His head tilted to the side, wondering just what Foxkit's imagination would create.
