The traitor sat outside the den, still, unmoving, like a block of stone, staring at the pale full moon. The moon was supposed to be sacred, and yet, the traitor was out and about again, ready to take a new victim.

Ready to take a new victim... But why?

A soft breeze blew past the traitor's ears. For a moment, they took it as mere wind, but a quick, snatched glance proved otherwise.

A semi-translucent cat floated down to earth, touching down to the ground with soundless pawsteps. His fur, off-white and patched with a shade of brown the color of rotting wood, was matted and ungroomed, like he had just rolled in a pile fo carrion. Underneath the unkempt pelt lay muscle, much overused muscle, ready to lash out and kill at a moment's notice. Faded green orbs were suspended in his face and shone with an abyssal light. The light of madness.

This was the motive for the traitor, if you could call it that- the original traitor from Honeystar's CoronaClan, controlling a living warrior to do his bidding.

The apparition nodded at the den's direction. The action was slight, yet purposeful; he expected this warrior to know what he wanted, and he expected obedience, subservience. Anything else, and he would take matters into his own paws: kill his own pawn, and simply choose another.

The traitor shivered, like a sudden cold had taken hold of them. This ghost was the one who'd told them to attack Foglake just the night before. His words still echoed in their head: He must prove his skill if he is to live in a Clan, right? Just because he was one of Honeystar's first doesn't mean he is worthy. That eerie voice that crackled like the dead leaves in leaf-fall, that changed and wavered between volumes every millisecond like he couldn't decide whether to whisper or yowl and was trying to do both. It scared the traitor, and yet made them all the more curious about who he was, what he had to offer.

And a small part of the traitor was inclined to listen to him, as much as he intimidated them. Foglake hadn't been able to defend himself from the surprise attack; did that mean he really wasn't suited for Clan life? What about the others? Were they any better?

Only one way to find out.

Taking a deep breath, the traitor slipped into the warriors' den, scanning to make sure that everyone was unconscious. And they were lucky; the deep, slow breaths of every cat told them that they were all under the clutches of sleep.

They fixed their gaze on the nearest warrior. They reared back, raising a paw with claws unsheathed-

Then terror gripped them in its sharp talons.

What am I doing?

The traitor froze. Even if the ghost was right- and that was a big if- that didn't mean that killing the defenseless was fair. And this cat was asleep. Even if they possessed all the skill in the world, how would they use it while they were unconscious?

A pale shadow slipped past the traitor.

The traitor stayed still, eyes still locked on their target. Their breaths had grown ragged, their eyes wide, mouth gaping open in shock. What am I doing...? Who am I? Why am I here, about to-"

The half-visible shade nudged the sleeping warrior awake. His olive eyes gleamed with annoyance: I shouldn't have to motivate you.

The formerly sleeping warrior blinked, dazed and tired. Their gaze focused on the cat standing over them, paw raised, obviously preparing for an attack. Their eyes widened, and they started to call for help.

Panic seized the traitor, and they brought their paw down hard. It connected with the warrior's head with a loud and definite thunk.

The apparition let out a thin cackle and pawed the body. "thiS oNe wASn't fASt eNOugH. SHe's noT FIt fOr liVInG oUt iN tHe wiLD eitHeR." His voice was hushed, but the sound of that crackling whisper was enough to make the traitor want to curl up and hide. He didn't speak all that often, and they were content with that, content with not hearing his crazy, broken voice.

"I-I can see that," they forced themselves to reply.

The white and brown cat faced the living traitor, a ghost of a smile on his lips- frosty, merciless, uncaring. Then he disappeared.

The traitor stood there for a while.

Then they turned back to the body. The body of a beloved Clanmate, who they were responsible for killing.

"I'm sorry... It didn't have to end like this." The cat nuzzled the body lightly, not bothering to ask for an undeserved forgiveness.

"May StarClan welcome you into their ranks... Aniseleaf."

***

"We must choose a cat to vote for!" Falconsong's tail lashed as she spat the words at Wavespirit. "What makes you think inaction will accomplish anything?"

"I don't." Wavespirit shook his head, his blue eyes glistening with sadness. "But what's the point of risking the banishment of an innocent?"

The warriors were huddled in the clearing. The sky was gray and gloomy, and a light drizzle fell upon the cats. From somewhere far off, a rumble of thunder rolled through the clouds. Perhaps the weather reflected the mood of the cats here; none seemed happy after they'd discovered Aniseleaf dead in her nest in the morning. Now they needed to decide whether taking risky action or doing nothing was a better option for survival, all whilst there was a traitor in their midst.

Fennelfox stood by Wavespirit, gaze fixed on Falconsong. "I must agree with Wavespirit. Falconsong, don't you think that maybe we need more proof of who did it rather than pointing out random warriors on wisps of fear?"

"Watch your tongue, Fennelfox. I possess knowledge of H-Honeystar's former Clan, knowledge that you have not. They were wiped out because they waited too long!" Falconsong's voice tightened; the simple mention of her former leader's name was enough to topple her emotions. "Do you wish for the same tragedy to resurface?"

"Falconsong, calm down." Hollowbranch spoke up. "I'm not saying I disagree with you- in fact, I think it would be better for us to get a potential traitor out of the way as soon as possible. However, Fennelfox also speaks true; what good can a shot in the dark do for us?" The ticked brown tabby tom swept a quick look around the ring of cats, his eyes glittering with wariness. "Any of us could be guilty, but we have nothing to point at who is responsible."

"That's what they said, too."

A new voice came from the leader's den. The cats whirled around to look at Swanwhistle- Swanstar after receiving her lives tonight- emerge from the stone hollow. The new leader's voice was brittle and murmurous, but she continued to speak.

"Falconsong is right. We must take action as soon as possible- any action. You must select a suspicious cat and put them on trial. By tonight, we will have a verdict, and they will leave if more cats believe they are guilty."

"So we just choose a random cat and vote for them? That's ridiculous! Who died and made-"

The warriors all whipped around to face the speaker, who seemed to realize his mistake. "Honeystar did," everyone replied simultaneously. Their meows rippled and merged in a cold flood.

"Since when do you question your leader's judgement, Stagrunner?" Wrenflame cocked his head. "Since when do you challenge her and her position?" The black tom's needle-sharp voice edged on a snarl.

"I-It was a mistake, a slip of the tongue." Stagrunner stared Wrenflame in the eyes, unwilling to back down. "Have you forgotten that I was one of the cats who brought her here in the first place?"

"As I recall being told, you would have driven her away, if not for Wavespirit's better judgement." Colliehaze smiled and groomed herself, nonchalant and calm. "I am not saying that you have plotted against her from the beginning," she murmured, "but perhaps you have some... queer grudge to hold against her for coming and becoming leader so soon out of nowhere."

"Jealousy wouldn't lead to murder. And if it was Swanwhistle- uh, or Swanstar- that he hated so much, he'd have killed her instead of Foglake and Aniseleaf." Cornflower tried to speak reason into the others, but to no avail; they were already too aggravated to listen.

"Everyone, stop!" Sorrelbreeze raised his voice, and everyone did stop. When Sorrelbreeze yowled, everyone listened.

"Is it really fair to accuse Stagrunner on nothing more than a single sentence?" Sorrelbreeze met every cat's gaze, one by one. "Is it fair to accuse him, when by wanting to drive an intruder out, he was doing his duty as a warrior?"

The warriors muttered among themselves in low tones; some of them had the decency to look embarrassed, while others still looked defiant.

"We will still put Stagrunner on trial," Falconsong meowed finally. "Not because we consider him particularly suspicious," she added, glancing meaningfully at Cornflower and Wavespirit, "but because we have nothing else to go off of at the moment."

Sorrelbreeze hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.

"Unless Swanstar wants to interject?"

The cream and white she-cat turned to look, but the space where her future leader was before was now empty. She'd just slipped away without a trace.