Treeclaw crouched down, staring at Swallowspeck's tail. The black tom slid through the undergrowth, ears pricked for prey. He never heard Treeclaw coming.

Mallowstar's eyes gleamed with disapproval and disappointment as he gazed down at Wolfpelt. Treeclaw sat just behind his brother, as close as he could get.

"Why, Wolfpelt?" Mallowstar asked, his voice echoing with sorrow.

Wolfpelt raised his chin arrogantly. "Oakheart was not a fit choice to be mentor to my great Emberpaw. My son needs someone fierce and strong to teach him, not a sniveling weakling like Oakheart."

"So you kill him?"

"You had a chance to stop this," Wolfpelt hissed, arching his back. "I told you to switch Emberpaw's mentor, but you didn't listen! This is all on you!"

Treeclaw blinked at Wolfpelt, but the tabby didn't look at him as he continued. "You're weak, Father! You want to suppress ShadowClan's greatest advantage: our killing instinct!"

"ShadowClan warriors are not murderers," Mallowstar snarled.

"How do you know?" Wolfpelt shot back. "Countless seasons ago, Tigerstar and Brokenstar led us to greatness! It took moons to the other Clans to regain trust in us. Those old leaders would've laughed at our pitiful warriors."

"They may laugh," Mallowstar growled, "but it will soon stop once our class pierce their pelts."

"Then why don't you let us?" Wolfpelt roared, fur bristling.

Mallowstar's eyes shone with fury. "Leave, Wolfpelt," he bellowed in return. "Never return!"

"Dad?" Emberpaw's black tabby pelt appeared at the entrance in the camp. "What's going on?"

Wolfpelt turned toward his son. Treeclaw started toward his nephew, then stopped as Wolfpelt padded to Emberpaw.

"Son," he murmured. He mewed something else in Emberpaw's ear, too soft for Treeclaw to hear.

"What? Why?" Emberpaw cocked his head, staring curiously at his father.

Wolfpelt didn't respond. Turning to Mallowstar, he drew back his lips in a snarl. "Don't let Emberpaw know what I did," he growled, his mew husky.

"Dad? What'd you do?"

Wolfpelt simply shook his head, then turned and pushed through the camp entrance, and was gone.

Wolfpelt padded through the undergrowth, eyes dark. He heard the chatter of a patrol up ahead.

Wolfpelt unsheathed his claws, ready to spring. "There's a frog," one mewed in a low voice. "I got it."

Paletail appeared, creeping up on the frog silently. He pounced, and it was all over. Paletail lay limp in his jaws.

"Got you," Wolfpelt snarled triumphantly.

"Paletail? Did you get it?"

Sneering, Wolfpelt slunk through the wet marshes, then leaped onto Bluefang. The she-cat screeched in shock.

The rest of the patrol jumped on Wolfpelt. Snarling, he raked his claws down Bluefang's side, then kicked out with his hind legs, catching Nighthorn in the stomach. His fangs sank into Dusktail's paw.

Bluefang retaliated with a vicious strike at his muzzle. Leaning back to avoid the blow, he pounced on her, tearing savagely.

Dusktail thrust Wolfpelt off, scoring a hit on his ear. Nighthorn, recovered, darted forward and slashed his claws down Wolfpelt's belly as he reared to fight with Dusktail.

His legs wobbling, he fell onto four paws, his wound pulsing blood. Bluefang ripped into his ear and tore off a piece. It burned with shooting pain. Wolfpelt shuddered.

Together, the three cats herded him toward the border. "Don't come back," Nighthorn hissed as they shoved Wolfpelt over the scent line.

Weak, dizzy from loss of blood, in pain, Wolfpelt limped off. When his legs buckled beneath him, he crawled. He crawled until he reached the shelter of a bush, where he curled up to die.

"Why, Treeclaw?" Treeclaw's pelt prickled as he remembered the words Mallowstar had spoken to Wolfpelt long ago.

"Swallowspeck knew something he shouldn't have." Treeclaw looked at his paws. "I couldn't let him live."

"What about me?" Mallowstar asked. "Couldn't you have trusted me?"

"You would not have understood, Father," Treeclaw meowed softly. "No one but I would."

Treeclaw glanced at Emberwolf; the tabby was silent, gazing at his uncle with sad and confused eyes. Do you know? he asked silently.

Mallowstar stared at his son. "You could have tried."

"I would have failed."

"I don't want to do this, Treeclaw," Mallowstar sighed. "But you've left me no choice. You have refused to defend yourself, and are thus guilty of treason. Treeclaw, I banish you from ShadowClan."

Treeclaw slowly nodded. Rising to his paws, he heard Mallowstar say, "I hope it was worth it to you, my son."

Treeclaw turned briefly back to look at him. "It was."

"May StarClan light your path, always."

"And may they light yours as well."

"Good luck."

"And to you as well."

Treeclaw padded through the ShadowClan camp entrance for the last time.

Treeclaw looked down at the huddled tabby shape, stained with blood. His paw was swathed with cobwebs taken from a dead trunk.

Leaning down, he unwrapped them from his paw and pressed them against the wound. Blood quickly soaked it, and he replaced them. As he did this, he chewed marigold, and once the flow had mostly stopped, he spat out the marigold onto the wound, then bound it tightly with cobwebs.

The tabby did not stir during this; he was too far gone. But close enough to life that Treeclaw might be able to bring him back.

He sat, tail curled over his paws, watching the tabby. Once, he left to hunt for himself. Then, as night fell, he hunted once more, left a sparrow lying by his side, and climbed into a tree to keep watch.

Before he did this, though, he leaned down and whispered, "Good luck, Brother."