As the golden tom struggled underneath him, the black WindClan tom purred, leaning towards the golden tom's ear. "Hawkfrost took care of her," he hissed, gesturing to the she-cat that looked almost exactly like him. "Now it's time for you to die."
"No, stop!" the black tom heard a voice call as he was about to give the ThunderClan tom the killing bite. "Breezepelt!"
Breezepelt let out a growl of frustration as his father shoved him off the cat who was also his son. "I knew you cared about him more than me! I knew it! You hate me!"
Breezepelt's father glared at him. "I never hated you, that's just what you wanted to believe. And Nightcloud encouraged it."
Breezepelt bristled and faced his father. "Leave my mother out of this!" he spat.
"If I had known this was how you felt, I would have helped you. But it's too late. You chose the Dark Forest. Now get out of here." Breezepelt's father hissed.
Breezepelt yowled in anger and launched himself out of the ThunderClan camp and dashed into the forest with all his speed. "Crowfeather!" he hissed. How could his father do this to him? Of course Crowfeather would save Lionblaze over himself. Lionblaze was always the better warrior. Crowfeather loved Leafpool more than he loved Nightcloud, Breezepelt's mother.
Crowfeather should have never met Leafpool. Then Jayfeather, Lionblaze and Hollyleaf would never have been born. Breezepelt would be the center of his father's attention, and Crowfeather would never have hated him.
"I wish things were different!" Breezepelt yowled into the air. "I wish things could have been better!"
Then there was a flash of light, and the black WindClan tom was sucked into darkness.