Bramblestar’s Storm

Sandstorm dipped her head. “You’re welcome.”

Glancing around the camp, Bramblestar realized that Millie was looking anxious, and for once it didn’t seem to be about Briarlight. Her gaze was flickering up and down the tunnel, and when the cats began to return from checking the water level, she got up and went to join them at the entrance.

“Has any cat seen Frankie?” she asked.

Birchfall shook his head. “He didn’t come with us.”

“Isn’t he with the kittypets?” Poppyfrost meowed.

But Jessy and Minty were curled up in their own nests, drowsily sharing tongues, and there was no sign of Frankie. Millie wove her way through the other cats toward them, and Bramblestar, sensing a problem, padded over as well.

“Have you seen Frankie?” Millie called to them.

“No,” Jessy replied. “Not since we got back from our patrol.”

“Any cat seen Frankie?” Bramblestar yowled, raising his voice so all his Clanmates could hear him.

There was no response except for shaken heads and murmurs of confusion.

Minty sprang to her paws, all her fur fluffed up and her tail brushed out. “Oh, no!” she wailed. “He’s been eaten by a fox!”

“No, I’m sure—” Bramblestar began, although he had a horrible suspicion that something equally bad might have happened to the kittypet, and he could sense that tension was rising among the rest of the Clan. Then he broke off as he spotted movement at the tunnel entrance and Frankie staggered in, soaked through and exhausted.

“Frankie!” Minty screeched. “You’re not dead!”

“Where have you been?” Millie demanded, stumbling over other cats as she hurried toward him.

Frankie glanced around, bewildered to see all his Clanmates’ gazes fixed on him. “What’s all the fuss about?” he panted. “I just went hunting on my own. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch anything.”

“I thought you’d been eaten!” Minty mewed with a shudder.

“I’m fine.”

Frankie headed toward the other kittypets, but Bramblestar intercepted him before he reached them. “Listen,” he mewed, “don’t go off on your own like that. It’s not safe.”

“I can look after myself!” Frankie snapped.

And hedgehogs fly, Bramblestar thought. But Frankie seemed tense and upset, so all he said was, “Go get some food and rest.”

After he had watched Frankie head back out to the fresh-kill pile, Bramblestar realized that Squirrelflight had appeared at his side. “You know,” she mewed gently, “you mustn’t let the kittypets take up so much of your attention. They are just visitors, after all. And now that the floods are going down, they’ll be able to return to their Twoleg dens soon.”

Bramblestar glanced across at the kittypets. Frankie was gulping down a thrush, while Jessy was teaching Minty how to pounce directly from a crouch. He felt a pang of loss run through him from ears to tail-tip at the idea of saying good-bye. “I’ve kind of gotten used to having them around,” he admitted.

“We have enough mouths to feed,” Squirrelflight pointed out.

“They’re learning to hunt!” Bramblestar protested.

Squirrelflight’s gaze rested on him for a long moment. “You don’t know that they want to stay here. Let them decide where they want to be,” she meowed at last.

When Bramblestar woke the next morning, he could hardly believe what he was seeing. Faint rays of sunlight were angling in through the tunnel entrance, and the air felt soft, laden with green scents. His pads tingling with optimism, he headed outside, enjoying the hint of newleaf warmth on his fur.

Squirrelflight was already in the open, arranging the patrols, with several of their Clanmates around her. “Cloudtail has gone to check the ShadowClan border,” she reported to Bramblestar.

“Then I’ll take a patrol over to WindClan,” Bramblestar decided. “I want to find out what they’re up to now that the water has started to go down.”

“I’ll come.” Berrynose thrust his way through the other cats. “Jayfeather says I’m fit for warrior duties again.”

“Great,” Bramblestar meowed. Glancing around, he spotted Whitewing with Dewpaw. “I’ll take you two as well. And you, Thornclaw, and… yes, Brightheart.” I’d better have a good number of cats, just in case WindClan causes any trouble.

But when Bramblestar and his patrol reached the WindClan border, there was no trace of WindClan scent on ThunderClan territory. Padding up to the edge of the stream, Bramblestar saw that the current was wider and deeper than before, but had retreated within its banks again. We really are getting back to normal.

Bramblestar led his cats as far as the top border without meeting any WindClan cats, but on their way back they spotted Crowfeather with his apprentice, Featherpaw, as well as Furzepelt and Gorsetail making their way upstream on the opposite side. Bramblestar halted and waited for them.

“Greetings, Crowfeather,” Bramblestar mewed as the WindClan patrol reached them. “How’s the prey running in WindClan?”