The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
Welcome to WCC! Here are our latest announcements:
Activity checks take place on the 1st of the month. If you miss one activity check, make sure you do the next one!
Leaf-fall is finally here, and with it, the promise of colder, crueler, days ahead.
Gatherings take place on the 1st of the month; keep your eyes out for a staff member's post!
Please feel free to hit up any staff member if you have any questions!
Subject: Last Of A Dying Breed [Rookfire] Fri 16 Feb 2024 - 10:16
The evening sun cast long shadows through the trees of highpine, pale snow covering the softer ground of the border territory. The air was cold, but not cold enough to see her breath in front of her face. A good sign, Beechfang thought. Slowly, slowly leafbare's grip on the forest would lessen.
She wondered, as the marked the border alongside one of her clanmates who kept to the trees, if she would see newleaf. Since returning from the lake territories she could feel age starting to creep up on her, and with the threat of war like a thin, wavering branch beneath her paws poised to snap with the slightest movement, Beechfang had become keenly aware of it. There was an ache in her bones, the same stiffness that had plagued her father had returned for her, though for now only until she forced herself to start moving after a long rest. She did everything she could to stay active and do what she could for the clan, but one day that wouldn't be enough.
She was older than either of her parents had been. Older now than most of the leaders she had known to pass in her lifetime. Far older than her clanmates save for Briarthorn. Still, despite that she had managed to stay involved with them, even as the clan's youth whispered stories among themselves. How strange it was, to hear herself the subject of gossip, to hear the events she remembered so clearly to this day whispered about as if they were ancient history. To some of the clan, perhaps they were.
Contemplative as the old warrior was, she was still aware of her surroundings. Tattered ears pricked at the approach of pawsteps, bringing with them the fresh scent of Shadowclan. Beechfang tensed, eye lifting and scanning her surroundings in search of the source. The black and white tom was... Familiar, she realized.
"...Rookfire?" They hadn't been particularly close as medicine cats, but the surprise of seeing a familiar face kept her paws rooted to the ground. "Suppose I should have expected someone given the time. I wasn't expecting to actually recognize anyone."
