Disclaimer: Erin Hunter doesn't care about this fanfiction, so I refuse to write a disclaimer about something that everyone already knows…

"You wouldn't dare." Blackstar spat. His attempt to look ferocious while trapped between hedges was quite amusing.

Firestar circled him, pausing to glance up at the full moon above them.

"Wouldn't I? And why not?"

Blackstar only became more arrogant with his response, "You're a pushover for the warrior code. And you wouldn't dare upset the other clans. Kill me, and they'll think you're plotting the assassinations of the other clan leaders."

"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Firestar's lopsided eyes seemed to give the impression he was unhinged. But it had been more than an impression since the accident.

"We are on Riverclan's land, in case you haven't noticed,"

Blackstar looked around and paled with recognition; The fear sliding down his throat.

"We…we crossed the border." It was said more like a question than a statement of fact.

Firestar rolled his eyes, "You've gotten so old, you can't even smell scent markings any more. Shadowclan is lucky I'm getting rid of you for them."

With these words Blackstar seemed to realize the trouble he was in. "You'll get caught! They'll find your scent all over me!" He struggled vainly, only managing to tear some of his remaining fur out.

He was nose to nose with him so fast; Blackstar didn't even feel the claw under his throat until it drew a tiny drop of blood. The crimson liquid fell onto the dirt, a lone spot of red between brown.

"I've never been one to monologue, so I'll just leave it to the foxes to tell you my plan." He deigned him with one last wink then turned and silently whisked into the trees.

The satisfaction of Blackstar's defeated expression had been too much. He felt nearly gleeful. When he focused, he could hear the job going as planned.

Snarls of the starving foxes were muted beneath the crash of the river. A quiet death was a clean one, he acknowledged, and almost always with no strings attached. Planting the dead rabbit there hadn't been the hard part. That had been getting the foxes to not choose him as an appetizer. But Firestar thought about the foxes. Cunning, like him. They knew what was good for them watching and waiting for the prize, following him until he led them there. They had patience. A skill most cats seemed to lack for.

"What happened to you? How did you become like this?!" Blackstar's last words called from behind him, probably no more intelligent than his first, Firestar scorned. He continued walking, but couldn't help but contemplate the question. How? The more apt conundrum was why?

Firestar looked for the second time at the moon, his answer as clear as its gleaming surface.

"Because I got tired of cats like you."

He swished through the reeds, and disappeared into the inky night.

This could be a very long fanfiction, of disturbing deaths and misanthropic notions (but with cats), or a very short fanfiction because I like reviews, and I get bored if no one comments on my writing. Be warned that I'm not afraid to kill off characters and usual couples might not be getting together. It all depends on how Firestar decides to play things out.

"Oh, and Mistyfoot? Never trust the shadows. My warriors wear the night like second pelts. If you wrong ShadowClan, you will never be safe in the dark."

-Blackstar