"We should have removed him from the clan when he was an apprentice, we should have seen what was coming."

"I told you when he was born he had too good of a face, that he would be trouble..."

"...And trouble was all he was."

"Affairs in all the clans, all of them...!"

"...And with loners."

"Conspiracy with outsiders and rouges..."

"...Murder of the third degree."

"I don't see what good the tom is to ThunderClan, all he gives he steals back...doubled the amount!"

"...we should have never let it get this far."

"I think we all know what to do."

"Kill him?"

"No. That's against the warrior code."

"He's no warrior."

"But we are."

"Torture then?"

"I don't find that amusing."

"Nor do I, as leader, I will give the final punishment, and it will be none of what you said Beetlepelt."

"You use to be fun Lightningstar, what happened?"

"Sir...are you just going to...banish him? That seems pretty lenient compared to what he's done."

"I know Berryclaw, and he will be banished of course, we can not have a cat like him in ThunderClan, but, in punishment, we'll cut him up a bit, let him know we're not cats to be toyed with."

"So, a beating?"

"Yes, a beating, I believe that StarClan will find that acceptable, there's no doubt in my mind where's he's going after his death anyway."

"Hmph, why can't we just torture him for a few weeks? Tear out his claws, shred off his pelt...neuter him..."

"Beetlepelt, no, just...no..."

"You use to be fun, you really were."

"Thank StarClan I matured then."

"Well, if you all are done, I'm going to bed, since, someone, put me on dawn patrol, Berryclaw." Putting a loud hiss on the deputy's name, Beetlepelt groggily slipped out of Lightningstar's rock den into the dark and cool early spring night. Still muttering as he made his way back the warriors den about how gentle Lightningstar was being with the criminal's punishment.

Pinning his ears back, he looked to where the criminal was being kept, a bramble den guarded by two alert guards. Watch Shift alternated every two hours during the night just so that they would be able to stay alert.

Of course...Beetlepelt wasn't allowed to guard the den or be left alone with the prisoner at any time, much to his great dismay.

"Lightningstar really needs to ease up on me...so what if I kill him?" He muttered aloud as he finally reached the warriors den, peering in through the darkness with green eyes reflecting the light of the almost full moon. To the right was his sister, with her mate, to the left was his brother, with his mate. Beetlepelt made a bee line for the middle, stepping over his slumbering den mates and situating himself on the ground...by himself, just the way he liked it.

Flash Forward:

The ragged brown tom inched his way forward along the dead limbs of the lightning-singed tree branch, his face was as equally scarred and burnt as the branch, and a featureless gaping mouth brought in the air, letting the taste of it run over his scensory glands.

He depended on the scent glands on his tongue, all his other senses were destroyed.

Two scabbed and peeling holes where his eyes had once been, the fur under and around them gone to reveal his black charred skin. Once two perky ears melted down, clogging his ear drums. And his nose, his nose appeared to have never been.

With great skill he brought his lithe body along the branch, feeling it under his paw pads, a never ending hunger threatening to crush his already collapsing stomach.

He could smell it, right bellow him, he didn't know how he knew, but he knew that it was there. Breathing the same air that he was, but blind to the monstrous creature above him.

His prey never knew, he smelt like the forest, and he never made a sound.

Placing one paw on air he gracefully dived down, striking out with his front claws he skillfully flipped the unsuspecting prey onto its back. Gracefully lashing out and crushing its windpipe under one suddenly lethal paw. He felt it die under him, it struggle to get the outside air into its deflating lungs. Felt as his life and soul shuddered out of the body, the meaty, the delicious body.

Crouching down to the side, the tom sat down to enjoy his well caught meal.

Another feline.

That was all he could eat, its flesh was soft and tender in his mouth, easily slid down his constantly sore throat. His mind didn't work like the way it did before, he didn't think about what he was doing, he just did it. It was instinct.

And, somewhere, in the black shell that was the toms mind, a spark was blazing, somehow, he felt the joy of emotion when he caught a cat. Knowing that it was revenge. And the revenge tasted sweeter than the actual meal.