Darkstripe didn't need to hear the rattling of the brown pellets against the silver dish or smell the dry, musty odor that wafted into his nostrils to know what was happening. His captor–he refused to call the Twoleg his owner–had finally decided to take the time to pour a few mouthfuls of food into his bowl. Screwing up his face in disgust, the dark tabby swallowed a few bites of pellets before slinking back over to his bed, desperately longing for a drink of water or a mouse to get the taste out of his mouth.

It was insulting, being forced to stoop as low as to accept kittypet food for his meals. Unfortunately, it wasn't as though he had much of a choice. Darkstripe still hadn't figured out a way to escape even after all this time, and Tigerstar hadn't come to save him yet. He didn't blame Tigerstar, of course–his old friend probably had a lot to worry about, and it took time to plan a rescue. Sooner or later, he would come for him. Until that day, however, Darkstripe had no choice but to eat the kittypet food he was given. It was either that or starve to death.

Perhaps I should look on the bright side. Surely this can't be worse than living in ThunderClan under Bluestar and Fireheart, Darkstripe thought.

He still couldn't believe that Bluestar would name Fireheart of all cats her deputy. Anyone could see that he wasn't the right cat for the job and the only reason she had chosen him was that he was her son. Granted, Fireheart certainly wasn't the worst hunter or fighter Darkstripe had ever come across, but he wasn't anything special either. He certainly hadn't done anything to deserve the position of Clan deputy over any of the other warriors in ThunderClan.

Bluestar is pathetic. Always worrying over Fireheart and having a breakdown every time he so much as gets a scratch, the dark gray tabby thought to himself with a sneer.

Even amidst his violent apathy towards Fireheart and Bluestar, it had been obvious that their relationship went beyond the typical bond between a mentor and an apprentice. Darkstripe could still remember the ThunderClan leader pacing back and forth outside the medicine den as Spottedleaf treated Firepaw's wounds, seemingly oblivious to the attention she was attracting from her Clan. He could also remember the fury in her eyes as she spat at Tigerclaw, threatening him with exile if Firepaw died from his injuries. It was an extreme reaction, especially from someone who had watched other cats get hurt countless times and hardly batted an eye. Looking back on it now, it seemed incredible that it had taken as long as it did for the Clan to realize that Fireheart was Bluestar's son.

In a way, Darkstripe could almost find it in himself to pity his old leader. He had heard the story of what happened to her first litter, snatched away in the middle of the night by a fox or a badger while she slept. Knowing that it was almost possible to feel sorry for her–but no. She didn't deserve anyone's sympathy. After all, StarClan had still given her every blessing in the world.

If there was anyone who deserved pity, it was Tigerstar. He was the strongest fighter in Clan history, and yet Bluestar had showered all her praise and affection onto Fireheart instead. She had banished him from ThunderClan and ordered him to be killed on sight if he ever returned, all because he wanted to make ThunderClan stronger. Even now that he had risen to the rank of Clan leader in ShadowClan, the other leaders clearly didn't respect Tigerstar. Darkstripe was certain that Bluestar had something to do with that.

Regardless, however, he knew there was nothing anyone could do to change the past. It wouldn't do any good to worry over Bluestar's blatant favoritism of her kit or the unfair treatment Tigerstar was receiving. The only thing he could do was focus on the future. And one day, Darkstripe promised himself, he would right the wrongs committed against his old friend.

When Darkstripe opened his eyes, he was startled to find himself in a dark, damp forest. At first, he was exhilarated, thinking that he must have escaped the Twoleg nest somehow. Soon, however, his senses returned to him. He certainly didn't remember leaving, and more importantly, he had never seen this part of the forest in his entire life.

But if I'm not anywhere on Clan territory, where am I? Darkstripe wondered.

Slowly, he got to his paws and began to walk forward, tasting the air for any hint of a familiar scent. As he continued on through the strange, unfamiliar woodland, Darkstripe heard the sound of pawsteps approaching him from behind. Sliding his claws out, he spun around and found himself face to face with a large tortoiseshell molly. Her fur was covered in scars and her amber eyes glittered coldly. But that wasn't what frightened Darkstripe about her the most. All in all, she looked like any other cat, yet there was still something about her that wasn't quite mortal.

"Who–who are you?" he asked, trying and failing to hide the tremor in his voice.

The strange cat regarded him coldly. "So you mean to tell me that my name has been forgotten already?" she asked. "I would have thought that ThunderClan would at least have the decency to keep my memory alive, especially after they ruined my life."

"I'm a ShadowClan warrior!" Darkstripe spat, anger lending him courage. "I'll never call myself a ThunderClan warrior again. Never!"

"Ah yes, forgive me. I'm afraid I'm a very busy cat, and as such don't have time to waste watching over lesser beings," the tortoiseshell sneered. "If you must know, my name is Mapleshade. I was once a warrior of ThunderClan, just like you, but I was exiled when I had kits with a RiverClan warrior named Appledusk. My kits drowned when I tried to cross the river, and I was rejected by the one cat I loved. In the end, I was killed by a pathetic RiverClan apprentice named Perchpaw. Now, I roam this forest, ensuring that all those who wronged me are punished."

Mapleshade walked around him slowly, her pelt brushing against his occasionally. Darkstripe tried not to retch as her putrid stench filled his nostrils. It seemed as though she hadn't bothered to wash for at least a moon or two. Then again, he doubted that any amount of grooming would ever be enough to wash the scent of this forest out of a cat's pelt.

"No need to tell me anything about yourself," she meowed, her voice laced with contempt. "Darkstripe, a former warrior of ThunderClan and now the former deputy of ShadowClan. Tigerstar's most loyal follower, why, you valued his friendship so much that you followed him into exile. Such bravery! Such comradery! If only the Clans had more cats like you, Darkstripe."

Darkstripe felt his neck fur bristling. It wasn't hard to see that she was mocking him. He dug his claws into the ground, lashing his tail.

"Don't bother trying to fight me. You won't stand a chance," Mapleshade meowed dismissively.

"What do you want with me?" Darkstripe snapped.

"Personally? Nothing at all," the tortoiseshell molly replied smoothly. "I didn't summon you here, after all. You brought yourself to this place."

"How?" he challenged her.

"That's for you to figure out," Mapleshade meowed, licking her chest fur.

Darkstripe shook his head irritably. He didn't need this strange molly making a mockery of him–he had more important things to worry about. His Clan needed their deputy back, and he still hadn't found a way to escape the Twoleg nest. If Mapleshade wanted to be a bother, she could find someone else to talk to instead.

"Look, I appreciate the conversation and all, but I have to leave," he meowed sharply. "I have places to be."

"Suit yourself," Mapleshade answered, clearly not at all bothered by his rudeness. "Perhaps I will see you again one day, Darkstripe."

I doubt it, Darkstripe thought scornfully, turning away and padding deeper into the forest.

He hadn't gone very far when he ran into another cat. Unlike Mapleshade, however, he recognized this one on sight. It had been moons since Darkstripe had last seen him, his throat torn out as punishment for supposedly murdering Fireheart–Firekit then–but the massive form and spiky gray and white fur were unmistakable.

"Darkstripe," Thistleclaw sneered. "What a surprise. And here I thought the Dark Forest only accepted cats with courage."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Darkstripe asked, bristling. "I have courage! I abandoned my Clan to follow Tigerstar."

Thistleclaw just curled his lip. "Congratulations, you gave up your home to follow your precious master."

"I did it out of loyalty–" the dark gray tabby began, but Thistleclaw cut him off.

"No, you did it because you're a sniveling coward. You couldn't handle the thought of being in ThunderClan without Tigerstar's protection, so you took the easy way out and decided to live life as a rogue," he meowed contemptuously. "And look where all of your supposed loyalty has gotten you. Shut away, cut off from the outside world, an equal among the lowest form of life. A kittypet. I've been watching you, Darkstripe. You're weak, you're pathetic. You could have been searching for a way back to the forest, and yet you've put all your hopes into waiting for a cat that isn't going to come for you."

"I have been searching for a way out! It's not as easy as you might think!" Darkstripe meowed defensively. "And what do you mean, a cat who isn't going to come for me? Tigerstar will come to get me. You'll see. I'm the ShadowClan deputy; I'm important. He needs me to help control the Clan, and besides, I've always been loyal to him. He'll want me there after all I've done for him."

"If you believe that, Darkstripe, you're even more pathetic than I thought," Thistleclaw growled. "Tigerstar doesn't care about you. He's not going to come to save you; he's already chosen another cat to serve as his deputy. You never meant anything to him. All you ever were was a tool, someone who was only there to worship him."

"I don't have time to listen to this," Darkstripe snapped. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about. Leave me alone."

Before Thistleclaw could get another word in, he turned tail and raced away into the dense woodland. Branches whipped at his face, but the dark gray warrior hardly noticed them. Thistleclaw was wrong. Tigerstar did care about him; he just knew it. His old friend would never abandon him to live as a kittypet, not after everything he had sacrificed for him.

Suddenly, Darkstripe awoke with a start to find himself back in the Twoleg nest. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he began licking his chest fur. It had only been a dream after all. Of course, he realized, why should he have expected anything else? Perhaps the Dark Forest was real, but everything Thistleclaw and Mapleshade had said to him couldn't be. His mind was simply playing tricks on him after being imprisoned in Twolegplace for so long.

Tigerstar abandoning me? And choosing another cat to be his deputy? As if, Darkstripe scoffed to himself.

Sooner or later, he would prove Thistleclaw wrong once and for all. Tigerstar would come for him, and everything would go back to how it was meant to be. He just had to find a way outside first.