Bramblestar’s Storm

“No.” Bramblestar was too fed up with the kittypets to waste one more heartbeat on them. “He’ll come back when he’s hungry, no doubt.”

Back in the camp, Spiderleg, Ivypool, and Whitewing were teaching their apprentices a new fighting move where they rolled over on their backs and battered their opponents with their hind paws.

“Can I join in?” Minty asked, trotting over to them.

Spiderleg turned to her with a cold stare. “No. This isn’t for cats who go wandering off and miss their patrols.”

Minty turned away, her head and tail drooping. Bramblestar thought that Spiderleg had been a bit harsh; it was encouraging to see Minty actually wanting to learn to fight. He was pleased a moment later when Brightheart padded up to the crestfallen kittypet and rested her tail on Minty’s shoulder.

“I’m going into the forest to look for herbs,” she meowed. “Do you want to come with me?”

Minty brightened up. “Sure!”

Bramblestar watched them go, then decided that he’d had enough of worrying about pesky kittypets for one day. I’ll see if I can catch up with the hunting patrol.

The trail led up to the ridge and across the top border into the woods beyond. Bramblestar relished the experience of being alone, listening to the scurrying of small creatures in the undergrowth and the twittering of birds overhead. The air was full of the scent of fresh growth after the long leaf-bare.

As Bramblestar inhaled the signs of returning life, he detected a faint bitter scent among the newleaf richness. Badger? he wondered, his neck fur beginning to fluff up. Bramblestar tried to tell himself that he had been spooked by Minty’s fussing, but he knew that he had to check. Following the traces deeper into the undergrowth, he realized that his first instinct had been right. At least two badgers had passed that way. He found flattened bracken and holes filled with badger droppings that confirmed his first suspicions.

His pelt bristling, Bramblestar backed away, taking careful note of the spot so that he could warn the patrols to keep watch. As soon as he retraced his steps to the hunting patrol’s scent trail, he heard sounds up ahead as if some cat was brushing swiftly through undergrowth. A mouse appeared out of the shelter of a clump of ferns and scuttled across the open ground. A heartbeat later the ferns waved wildly as Lilypaw burst out of them and hurled herself at the mouse.

Bramblestar waited for her to make the kill, then stepped forward as Lilypaw straightened up with her catch in her mouth. “Good job!” he meowed. “Your hunting skills are coming along well.”

Lilypaw jumped at the sound of his voice and turned toward him. Her eyes glowed with pleasure. “Thanks, Bramblestar,” she mumbled around the mouse.

She may be small, but she’s brave and she works hard, Bramblestar thought as he followed Lilypaw to join the rest of the hunting party. A pang of sorrow stabbed through him, sharp as a thorn, when he remembered how much she had lost. I must remember to take Brackenfur aside and tell him how well his daughter is doing.

That night in his nest, Bramblestar couldn’t sleep. There was a hard knot in his belly; he blamed the tough blackbird he had eaten earlier. However often he changed his position, he felt as if a sharp piece of twig was poking into him.

“For StarClan’s sake,” Squirrelflight hissed, coming to sit beside him, “stop fidgeting about. You’re keeping every cat awake! Except for Frankie,” she added. “He came back late, so exhausted he just flopped into his nest.”

“Sorry,” Bramblestar muttered. “I’m worried about Frankie,” he went on.

He was slightly surprised when Squirrelflight agreed. “So am I. Why don’t we follow him the next time he wanders off by himself?”

Bramblestar’s whiskers quivered. “Do you think he’s plotting with another Clan?”

Squirrelflight let out a snort of disbelief. “No. He’s a kittypet. But he’s our responsibility at the moment, so we need to find out where he’s going.” She poked her paw into his nest and yanked out a single long thorn. “There, you should stop wriggling now. Sleep well.”

Chapter 25

“Seeing that the water’s going down,” Bramblestar meowed, “we need to think about repairing the dens in the hollow.”

A couple of days had passed without any more rain. Now a pale sun was shining and the clouds were thinning out, drifting across the sky like white mist. Bramblestar felt his energy rise at the thought of returning to their home.

Dustpelt and Brackenfur were discussing the practicalities with him just outside the entrance to the tunnel, along with Cherryfall and Molewhisker. The life of the Clan went on busily around them. The apprentices were dragging bedding outside to let it dry off in the sun, with Daisy supervising them.