There's not really anywhere else for Tigerclaw to go but Twolegplace, which he hates.  He hates a lot of things right now, actually; he hates the situation, in its entirety; he hates Darkstripe and Longtail and Dustpelt for renouncing him; he hates the mouse-brained rogues with their mouse-brained plans; he hates all of ThunderClan for turning on him when he'd done so much for them and would have done so much more.  He hates Bluestar - no, he hates what she's become.  He hates that this happened so soon after his kits were born, that they'll be too young to remember him and that he won't get to see and shape what sort of cats they turn into.

He hates Fireheart.

And while he does this he walks all the way through Twolegplace, ignoring the kittypets who greet him from atop their fences (hate hate hate) and darting away from Twolegs (hate) and crossing an uncountable number of Thunderpaths (haaaaate).  He finds a spot hidden enough to be as safe as he's likely to manage tonight, and curls up.

And he seethes, and he sleeps.