A stark pink tongue slipped out to lick bloodied chops, maw agape to reveal equally red stained fangs accompanied with a bout of heavy breathing. His adrenaline blown pupils engulfed a majority of the original blue, giving a hazy appearance that resembled insanity.

"Whitestag, you monster."

At the mention of his name, the fluffy white tom - whose pelt lay utterly stained with streaks of crimson - turned his head around slowly.

"Oh please," he crooned with an open grin, still breathing heavily over the energy burst. "Gorsestar was the real monster. He would have laid waste to the other Clans. He injured hundreds of cats. You could see it in his eyes - he was a tyrant."

"But he never killed anyone!" a tiny brown tabby screeched in horror, voicing her opinion as the rest of her Clanmates had the murderer surrounded.

"Briarflower's right," another solid gray tom nodded his head furiously in agreement. "Gorsestar may have wounded a few cats, but he never took lives. The only monster we see here is you!"

"You're all fools!" Whitestag spat, blood mixing with spittle on the uneven ground. "I only had WindClan's best interests in mind! If you all weren't so blind, you could see I saved you miserable cowards!"

"Miserable or not, Gorsestar was still our leader," the deputy strode forward, a brown and white patched she-cat with authority to boot. "Whitestag, you have dishonored the code and your birth Clan. WindClan finds you guilty of murder. I say this before the words of Gorsestar - may he hunt well in StarClan - you are hereby exiled from WindClan. If you are found within our borders after sundown, my warriors have permission to kill you."

"Too bad," Whitestag's anger mellowed, his charismatic timbre resurfacing much to the chagrin of the surrounding warriors. "I'm sure I would have made WindClan great. Perhaps I could have been deputy. Ah well, can't fix the past now I suppose. Good-bye forever, mouse-brains. I'm sure I'll walk in your dreams."

"Any dream you'd walk in would be a nightmare!" a big apprentice named Ryepaw snarled as the white warrior passed him.

Whitestag only grinned and continued walking.

With a gaping yawn, the big white warrior flicked aside the remains of a rabbit he'd caught a while ago. He hadn't bothered to even conceal his crime, leaving bits of fur, blood and bones as evidence for the rest of WindClan to marvel at.

Maybe he'd catch another one, smear its stink on ThunderClan's side of the border, give a reason for Deerstar to go up against WindClan.

Perhaps he would - after his nap.

Killing sure took a lot out of you.

The warrior looked around from his place still inside the borders. He'd procured a little divot in the earth where he could easily snooze the day away and no one could find him. WindClan cats were rumored to be rather stupid.

With no qualms as to where he was resting, Whitestag closed his bright blue eyes unknowingly for the last time, unobservant to the glowing eyes as sundown approached.

"Exile of WindClan. Rise."

A sharp voice shook the ex-warrior awake, jostling him from a savage dream.

He'd dreamt he was attacked while he was sleeping. He remembered silence, teeth and claws. He could almost feel the inflammation at his throat.

Whitestag squinted, his eyes adjusting to the lack of light in his surroundings. From first glance, he could spot dead wood in gnarled formations, jutting from the gray earth. A closer look yielded dead leaves and other shriveled up twigs at his broad paws. Coils of mist crept from the tree roots, an eerie chill in the stale scented air.

Turning a full one hundred eighty degrees, Whitestag came face to face with the strange voice's owner.

It was a tomcat - near his own size - though not as bulky. He looked a little scrawny, befitting the stereotype of frail bodied WindClan cats. His pale yellow pelt was transparent, a faint glow to his amber eyes.

"Nice to see what you've done with the place," Whitestag commented, his tone condescending as he observed what appeared to be StarClan's hunting grounds. "A small step down from what everyone expects, but some clean management and this place will be top notch in nothing short of a few seasons."

"So you're the conflicting mutation everyone's dragging through the bramble bush backwards," the starry warrior ignored Whitestag's prior comment, sniffing disdainfully. His nose visibly wrinkled, features creased into an image of disapproval. "I can't take this back with me. He's yours to take, Pineberry."

Behind Whitestag, a spiky furred black she-cat made her presence known. Similarly, her pelt emanated a ghostly glow, her mossy optics nothing but a dim glow in the gray landscape.

She glanced fervently at the white cat. For her few moments, her facial expression remained unchanged when it suddenly morphed to one of disgust.

Pineberry hissed in bubbling irritation. "I most certainly will not take this windward fox. He smells of betrayal and charisma. If left unsupervised, the danger level rises. I don't trust his backstabbing nature. You take him. He has goodness in his heart. For the Dark Forest's sake, Sunchaser, he only killed his leader for the benefit of his Clan."

Sunchaser growled. "StarClan does not abide with accepting murderers into our ranks. Your kind blesses this kind of treason. Take him under your wing or whatever you care to do to those pour tortured souls with an affinity for evil. StarClan does not want him."

"He's too volatile!" Pineberry argued. "He'll take over!"

All the while, Whitestag stood pointedly off to the side while the two deceased felines settled their spat. Amusement crinkled in his eyes. "So I'm dead," he spoke aloud, catching the attention of the squabbling cats. "Heh, guess it wasn't all a dream."

"Whitestag. Son of Cloudmist and Birchrunner. Exile of WindClan."

"That's me," the white tom smiled to show teeth, proud of his title.

Sunchaser fixed him with a glare and continued;

"You have murdered your leader. For a crime such as your foul one, StarClan deems you acceptable to the Dark Forest."

Pineberry flicked an ear, adding;

"Yet you only killed him for the future of your Clan. Left unchallenged, Gorsestar would have been set upon the path to darkness. You have too much good nature in yourself to be welcomed in our fundamental band."

At this, Whitestag became perplexed. "Well, if I'm too bad for either one of you, exactly where am I going to live out the rest of my eternal slumber?"

"Here," Sunchaser decided with a determined nod of his head. Pineberry was a little more hesitant, but agreed nonetheless.

"Here is the middle ground. A place neither connected with StarClan nor the Dark Forest. For eons, it has simply been called The Void. A place for cats too bad for StarClan and too good for the Dark Forest." With a swish of her needle-pricked tail, the Dark Forest cat began to slink off into the darkness. "Happy hunting."

Sunchaser did similar, flicking his tail absentmindedly and turned on his heels back toward the contrasting light. "Enjoy yourself in your crisis. Perhaps it would be wise to consider your life choices. Who knows? You could have been accepted into StarClan with open paws. Now you're nothing. Dwell on that."

And then he disappeared.

Left alone, Whitestag finally had his chance to snort in disbelief. At least I have solitude to myself.

"Oh, they're gone."

Whitestag perked his ears. "Who's there?"

"Someone indecisive. Someone who made a lot of conflicting choices. Someone who had good intentions but carried them out in a horrible manner. Someone like you."

"I do so adore it when I find someone I can agree with. Exile of WindClan - Whitestag."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Whitestag. I'm Gooseberry."

Or alternately titled, "Heaven Doesn't Want Him and Hell's Afraid He'll Take Over" as a reference to a story I once read.

Challenge for TorrentClan

- Thornlight