"You are no longer a member of StreamClan." Icestar's frail form was shaking with some combination of rage and weakness. Her eyes, one green and one blue, held deep sorrow within them as she flicked her gaze from the still, mottled golden form lying in the center of the camp to the still, dark brown form sitting rigidly beneath the root she sat on. "We will give you this night to leave our territory; after that, you will be treated as any intruder and chased out. Do not think that you can beg for a second chance."

The Clan around her looked to the brown tom, all their whispers silenced and their breath held as they awaited his response.

When it came, it was not what they had expected. "Beg for a second chance? Don't make me laugh. I will do no such thing, not for your amusement or for my own life. If I leave the Clan, the world will start looking better and better. To be honest, I've been waiting for the chance to get out of this wretched life for moons."

Ivyleaf, a pale grey tabby-and-white she-cat who had been born shortly after the tom and had been close to him all her life, stepped forward. She was spitting with rage, lashing her tail as she seethed, "Then why didn't you just go? Why did you have to kill Hazeltooth?"

The tom looked at her wryly. "I couldn't just let her live with the satisfaction of knowing she had driven me out," he replied with a twitch of his whiskers. "Perhaps you have no concept of cruelty, seeing as you were raised by Fogfur the soft-hearted," there was a gasp from the Clan at his casual insult of the elder, "but Hazeltooth has wanted me gone for a long time. She would have been proud of herself had I left without killing her."

Darkfur, Ivyleaf's brother and also a close friend of the tom, hissed spitefully. "How dare you say such things about your own mother? Hazeltooth was one of the best cats in the Clan and you think you can justify her murder with lies and excuses?" He unsheathed his claws and sank them into the soft earth beneath his dark grey paws.

"I wouldn't lie about something like that," the brown tom replied with a slight shrug. "You want proof? I doubt that you'll believe me even with proof, but I can provide it anyway." He turned slightly and bent over his flank, lightly nosing a line of white fur. "This fur has always grown white ever since the skin there was scarred. Do you remember the day I got the scar? I had disobeyed Sootkindle, and Hazeltooth took me into the forest to 'have a talk.'"

The smoky black she-cat who he had named, once his mentor, half-rose in anger. "I remember perfectly well! When you got back to camp you were scratched up because you'd run away from Hazeltooth, disobedient apprentice that you were, and crossed the ShadeClan border! One of their apprentices had to claw you until you crossed the border!"

The tom snorted. "Yes, one of ShadeClan's apprentices. That's what she said, anyway. But Silverwhisker, you remember how you commented that you didn't smell ShadeClan anywhere on me?" he nodded towards the medicine cat, who bristled when the curious gazes of her Clanmates shifted to her. "And I didn't have any fur caught in my claws, too."

"So what?" Sootkindle snapped. "I suppose you'll try and tell us that Hazeltooth attacked you, is that right?"

"Precisely," the tom replied.

There was a chorus of enraged hisses from the gathered cats. The tom seemed to sense that the mood had shifted from suppressed hostility to outright aggression at his tone, and his ears flicked halfway back out of instinct. "Like I said, I didn't think you would believe me even with proof. There was no evidence of ShadeClan attacking me. It was Hazeltooth."

This was the final straw for Darkfur, who lunged forward with claws unsheathed. He snarled, looking murderously at the tom, who simply leaned a little ways to the side with an irritated frown. Darkfur landed hard on the ground, then whipped around and swiped furiously at the tom.

"That is enough!" Icestar's outraged yowl rang out into the clearing, cutting off the growls of encouragement from the cats huddled in a ring. She leaped down from her perch on the exposed roots of the tree under which the leader's den was hidden, all signs of age vanishing as she stalked forward. "Darkfur," she growled, "this behavior will not be permitted. While your anger is understandable, I have promised him the power to leave unharmed. You must reign in your anger for now."

Turning to the tom, she meowed, "Clawfang, I don't want to hear excuses for Hazeltooth's death. You are exiled from StreamClan, and if you should return you will be treated like any intruder. Leave the Clan now."

Clawfang, for that was the tom's name, got to his paws. He cast one lazy glance over Icestar, his hazel eyes hard as flint. "Very well." He padded smoothly past her and Darkfur, completely ignoring the tom's hostile glare. As he came close to Hazeltooth's body, Clawfang reached out and lay one paw on her flank. A growl rumbled in Icestar's throat, but he took no notice. Instead, he bent down and touched his nose to the pelt of the mottled golden warrior.

"You were no mother to me," he murmured, "but you were a friend to many cats in this Clan. I will not mourn you, but I hope that you find peace in StarClan." So speaking, he rose and continued to approach the camp exit. The cats near him drew back, hissing, but again he did not react. Just before he reached the hole in the bushes, Clawfang paused and looked back at the Clan. "Goodbye," he meowed, a snarl in his voice once more. "Live your wretched life, lying to yourself about everything. I forsake the Clan ways, and I hope that you die in your own filth."

Then he was gone, leaving a collection of stunned and furious StreamClan warriors in his wake.

Clawfang brushed past the thick undergrowth that was so familiar to him, claws unsheathed and digging into the soft ground with every step. He walked blindly, not knowing what direction his paws led him until the forest began to grow sparse and ShadeClan's scent wreathed around him.

A small worm of cruel delight twisted inside of him at the thought that, by treading into ShadeClan's territory, he might cause great trouble to his former Clan. With that thought in mind, he deliberately stepped over the border and padded into the territory of an enemy Clan.

For a long while, all he heard were sounds of things moving in the forest. The pine trees overhead rustled softly in the breeze. Leaf-bare was approaching the Clans rapidly, with leaf-fall already halfway through. ShadeClan was lucky, he knew, because their territory was so sparse that there was nearly nothing to lose in terms of cover. Hunting was often good for them, and they – good-hearted fools that they were – would usually share with the other Clans when they needed to.

Birds twittered as they flew from tree to tree, wings flashing down at him as if warning him that he was not on his territory. Clawfang took no notice of them, merely listening to his surroundings in the hopes that he could hide if a ShadeClan patrol approached. He had good ears and was confident that he would be able to hear anything.

And, of course, it took only a few more pawsteps for that confidence to be shattered as a huge black tom stepped out of a bramble patch. The tom's face was striped with white and his flank was marred with bleached streaks similar to the one on Clawfang's haunch – old scars, most likely.

"What are you doing in ShadeClan's territory?" the tom growled at him.

Clawfang, who had been so confident that he could handle anything thrown his way, found himself shrinking away without an answer.

The ShadeClan warrior leaned closer, frowning. "Hey. Clawfang, speak to me. I'm not going to rip your throat out if you just answer me."

If I just answer him. If I just answer him, ha… Clawfang took a deep breath. "I'm not part of StreamClan anymore… I'm leaving."

"Oh." The ShadeClan tom fell silent, and Clawfang could see his mind turning over the phrase. "Oh. Oh, I see. Very well. I can cover your scent if need be, but you need to leave the territory as soon as possible."

"Wait. You'll… you'll help me?" Clawfang stammered, staring at him.

The tom dipped his head. "Of course. I don't know what you did to bring this about, but that doesn't mean you deserve to be shredded by my Clan. So I'll help you get out of the territory, but that's it. I can't do anything else."

Clawfang blinked. "No, that's – that's more than enough. I didn't expect any help at all, so this is completely welcome."

"All right. Follow me," the tom meowed. "I can take you to the opposite border and show you to a place where you'll be okay. If I remember correctly, there's a Twolegplace not too far away. There are stories of cats living there; you might try that."

"Thank you," Clawfang replied earnestly. The tom began padding away, then paused and glanced back. He waited patiently as Clawfang shakily made his way after him.

The two cats strolled through the forest in silence. At times, the ShadeClan tom would stop, taste the air, and lead Clawfang in another direction. Finally, though, they reached the border without incident.

"Here is where I stop," the tom meowed. "I'll go back and cover your trail. Good luck, Clawfang. StarClan watch over you." He dipped his head, blinking.

"Thank you," Clawfang mewed in response. He nodded to the ShadeClan tom, who turned back and began padding into his territory again. Thank you, Clawfang repeated silently, but I don't want anything to do with the Clans – StarClan included.

When he turned around, he was faced with more forest. It's so… open. Though this land was owned by no Clan, it resembled ShadeClan's territory in its lack of undergrowth. He pricked his ears, listening closely for any sounds of danger. Instead, he was able to faintly pick up the roar of monsters on a Thunderpath. So he was right… there really is a Twolegplace this way.

As the dark brown tom padded through the forest, every step of the unusual territory adding to his growing unease, evening made its steady way into the sky. Nighttime's deep blue, dotted with twinkling lights of Silverpelt, bled like a dark stain into the pale azure of day. However, the closer he drew to the Twolegplace, the brighter it became. Squares of light were thrown haphazardly into the shadow of the forest, fragmented by pine needles and occasionally blotted out by the looming profile of a Twoleg. Though Clawfang tried to avoid these bright spots, it was impossible to dodge them all.

He reached a wide, flat expanse – the Thunderpath that he had heard before. The center was striped with gold and no monsters were in sight. He listened hard, making certain that it was safe, before darting across the hard substance to the opposite side. It was no better there, though; another rough-edged surface was all he found, bordered with tall planks of wood. Clawfang bristled in alarm when he heard a monster's roar approaching.

It came closer, growling ferociously and splashing the whole area with its blinding yellow gaze. The tom hunched over, cringing and awaiting the death that was sure to follow –

– only to sit up again, puzzled, when the monster rushed past in a great blast of wind without touching him. Looking down in confusion, Clawfang noticed that the Thunderpath was made of a sort of black stone, while the strip of stone he stood on was a nondescript tan color. Perhaps monsters can only be on certain types of Thunderpaths?

Despite his misgivings, Clawfang decided to stay and wait for another monster to see if it did the same. His fear of the giant creatures was overridden by his curiosity. And soon enough, another monster approached. It was smaller and harder to see, surface deep grey like slate, but its eyes shone brightly enough so that the former warrior could make it out. Again, the monster ignored him completely.

That's useful to know, Clawfang thought as he turned away from the Thunderpath. If I stay on this smaller path, maybe I can travel through Twolegplace safely until I find somewhere safe to sleep. He looked up at the wall to his right, appearing to be made of wooden slabs. Being higher up will let me see more. The tom crouched, wiggling his haunches, then leaped up.

He was prepared to land on a surface that was at least somewhat wide. Instead, upon reaching a height to see over the wall, he found that it wasn't even as wide as his paw. Unfortunately, he had no time to reflect on this because his front paws cleared it easily, sending him hurtling down towards the ground below. Abruptly, one of his hind paws snagged on the fence. It buckled backwards, twisting with a wave of agony as all of his weight was suddenly applied to it. Clawfang let out a strangled yowl as he tumbled to the ground, unable to even balance himself to land on his paws. Instead, his shoulder struck the ground hard.

He lay there gasping for breath, trying to process what had just happened to him and figuring out where he was hurt. His hind paw was sending his mind into a haze of pain, burning with a strange distant torment that made him dizzy, while his shoulder was throbbing with a dull but solid ache that sent twinges of pain up and down his entire leg.

StarClan help me, he thought dimly, then winced. StarClan won't watch over me, not now that I've abandoned them. I have to help myself or I won't get any help at all. Moving slowly, Clawfang lifted one uninjured leg and tried to put weight on it. As he did, however, there was a sudden snapping sensation that he couldn't pinpoint in a single place on his body.

Black dots filled his vision, blotting out the grey and brown world around him until he saw only darkness. Then the pain faded away, and there was nothing.

So I've decided that, for this particular story, I will be placing my author's comments at the end of the story. I will also place the description of each new character down here as they are introduced. However, in this particular chapter, I will only introduce Clawfang as no other cats will be recurring characters.

Clawfang – fierce, ruthless chocolate brown tom with hazel eyes; exiled from StreamClan after killing Hazeltooth.

Clawfang was formerly in StreamClan, which is one of the four Clans in which my one-shots and Fate's Treachery. This particular chapter takes place a few moons before the prologue of Fate's Treachery.

This story is not going to be about the Clans. In fact, this is likely the only chapter featuring characters from my Clans. Instead, this is about Clawfang - a cat who was treated badly while growing up, a cat who sees killing as a solution to his problems, a cat who leaves the Clans behind only to find that their ways follow him everywhere he goes. Do I have a plot for this story? Not really. But some of the best stories are made that way, so here's to hoping this one goes somewhere.

In the process of writing this, I intend to play around with Clan life and rules as much as possible, showing the good and bad of the Warrior Code and Clan ways. I don't know whether I want ancestors (StarClan-esque) to appear - if you happen to review, please let me know whether you think ancestors should play a part or not.

All right. Rainy out.