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We've all heard about the winners of the war against the Dark Forest, where the Clans held up against some of the strongest forces against them ever seen, but what about the cats that betrayed the Clans to fight? What happens to the losing side?

Traitor

Memories flash through my head of my kithood, my apprenticeship, my early days of being a warrior.

The first memory that comes to mind is discovering the blind apprentice, Jayfeather, on our territory. Well, on WindClan's territory now, I no longer belong to any Clan. Heathertail was so nice to him, going out of her way to make sure he was okay. I was the surly apprentice, the one who wanted nothing to do with my Clan. Ironically now I would like something, anything, to do with my Clan, but I am afraid to return.

I betrayed my Clan, WindClan, the Clan of the moors, to fight for the Dark Forest, to get revenge for my father's discontent in life. His discontent toward me. Crowfeather's constant fighting with Nightcloud made me realize that I was not wanted in this world. When the opportunity came to take revenge, I took it.

My revenge failed, and miserably at that. My father drove me from my Clan, the ultimate show of hatred, and now I have no idea where I am going.

My thoughts are interrupted by a soft call behind me. "Breezepelt," a tom's voice whispers. The voice of a disgusting brown tom and amber teeth, the disgusting calm, put-together voice of Ratscar. Another leader of our failed revolution against StarClan.

"What," I snap at the tom. Behind him, I can see other cats who fought with the Dark Forest and myself during the war. They see us and break into a run. I name them silently in my head as they approach, WindClan cats first: Harespring and Larkpaw, then Thornclaw of ThunderClan, and Minnowtail and Sunstrike, sisters from RiverClan. After them comes their RiverClan clan mate, Icewing.

"Thank you for waiting," Ratscar murmurs to me as the cats approach. I want to turn tail and run from them, escape my pain and loss and misfortune, but we cannot live as rogues. We must form a sort of Clan and live together until we can figure some sort of solution out.

"We lost," Harespring tells me quietly. His brown and white fur blows in the wind. His eyes look ominously back and forth between each cat.

"I still can't believe it," Sunstrike quietly meows to her sister. Minnowtail bows her head in shame. This shame is not from losing, but rather from misinterpreting the goals of the Dark Forest.

My other Clan mate, Larkpaw, looks at me sadly. "Onestar will not be pleased."

"Who needs him?" Thornclaw snaps, his golden-brown fur blowing in a breeze. "We can form our own Clan and take over later."

At this Icewing shakes her head. "No," she says, "we can form our own Clan and never tell our kits about their parents' mistakes."

Every cat in the circle nods, however reluctantly.

And we continue on.

The End

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