Stormyheart woke up panting from a nightmare. The sunlight blinded him momentarily, and reminded him of the glint of claws and the gleam of hatred in his enemy's eyes. Then the happy faces of his two daughters chased away the last shreds of the nightmare.
"We're going on a hunting patrol today! With you," Leopardpaw squeaked with excitement. Her white and black spotted fur quivered with excitement, and her ice blue eyes shimmered. It wasn't often that kin were allowed to go on patrol together in ShadowClan. Stormyheart smiled. His other daughter, Amberpaw, had the same gleam in her amber eyes. Her orange fur was groomed to perfection. They looked like they were heading for their warrior ceremony, which shouldn't be too long now.
On the hunting patrol, Stormyheart was stalking a mouse. An amber paw peeked out of a bush. Amberpaw was hunting the same mouse. She leaped for it, and some horrible thing came over Stormyheart. A red haze clouded his vision and his judgment. His claws unsheathed, and he pounced at Amberpaw, who jumped away in horror. Leopardpaw, who was watching the whole scene a short distance away, gasped and ran back to camp. Stormyheart hissed maniacally and launched himself at his daughter again. This time he didn't miss. Amberpaw slashed out in self-defense and scratched his eye. The pain snapped him back to reality and he was left panting and confused.
"Amberpaw! I'm so, so sorry! I don't know what came over me," he stammered. Amberpaw got up, equally exhausted but less confused, and shook her fur.
"It's okay, Daddy. I know you didn't mean it. I know it's just your sickness," she mewed softly before padding away. Stormyheart had been like that since he was a kit. One minute he would be fine, but the next he would be a homicidal maniac. It was a wonder he ever became a warrior. His mate helped a lot. Spottedflower accepted him the way he was, and saw past his condition.
By the time the gray-and-black-striped warrior returned to camp, word had got around that he had attacked his own daughter. Every cat regarded him suspiciously. Blackstar approached him, a snarl forming on his lips.
"This is the last straw. Since you obviously haven't learned to handle your condition, you would be better off away from other cats."
The Clan gathered around and bristled, obviously agreeing with the Clan leader. Even Spottedflower was hissing.
"He's right. I loved you until you turned on your own kin, your own flesh and blood."
"Spottedflower, no! I love you! You have to believe that! I would never do anything to hurt you or our kits on purpose!"
"It's over," Spottedflower announced, sadness in her voice. Leopardpaw followed just as sadly, their tails leaving twin tracks in the soil. Amberpaw stepped forward, but a tail held her back.
"Now go," Blackstar hissed coldly. Stormyheart felt icy claws gripping his heart, and he slunk out of the clearing and out of Clan territory. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the crowd had dispersed, each cat resuming their own role in the Clan. It was as if he had never left—no, as if he was never born. His life as a Clan cat was over.