Bramblestar’s Storm

Bramblestar thought of Lionblaze, furious that he had to wait for his wounds to heal. Was it worth these cats having their special powers, he wondered, when they suffer such agony losing them? Only Jayfeather seemed untroubled, but he was still able to be a medicine cat, just like before. And I’ve never known what goes through Jayfeather’s mind.

Bramblestar padded forward. Dovewing jumped at the sound of his paw steps, and spun around to face him. After one glance into his eyes she hung her head and shuffled her front paws on the stone.

“Bumblestripe told me what you’re trying to do,” Bramblestar began.

“It’s none of his business!” Dovewing’s tone was indignant.

“Of course it is,” Bramblestar meowed. “He’s your mate, and he cares for you.”

Dovewing let out a long, frustrated sigh. “It’s awful, not being able to hear anymore,” she told Bramblestar. “I feel as if I’ve let my Clanmates down.”

“Of course you haven’t!” Bramblestar assured her. “It’s not your fault.”

Dovewing’s eyes were pools of sadness in the dim light. “In spite of the powers the three of us had, the Clans were still devastated by the Great Battle,” she mewed.

“But without you, we would have suffered much more.” Bramblestar wasn’t sure what he could say to comfort Dovewing, and he paused for a moment, hoping that StarClan would give him the right words. But no words came.

Maybe StarClan can’t see me under all this rock, he thought. I’ll have to figure this out on my own.

“StarClan gave you those powers for a good reason,” he went on at last. “You knew where the Dark Forest warriors were attacking. Lionblaze fought like a whole Clan of warriors without shedding a drop of blood, and Jayfeather united StarClan.”

Dovewing shook her head. “So why have we lost our powers, if we needed them so badly?”

“Perhaps because StarClan knows you don’t need them now,” Bramblestar suggested. “We will still face challenges, like the flood, but we can survive them using our Clanborn knowledge. You and Lionblaze can still hunt and fight as well as any cat. Jayfeather still heals us.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

Bumblestripe stepped forward out of the shadows. “Dovewing, you’re not angry with me, are you, that I told Bramblestar?”

“No.” But Dovewing brushed past him quickly and headed toward the camp without looking back.

When Bramblestar emerged from the tunnel he spotted Jessy at the other side of the clearing, spreading moss out in the sun with Brightheart and Whitewing. As soon as she saw Bramblestar she rose and bounded over to him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. “Those tunnels look pretty scary!”

“Oh, they’re not that bad,” Bramblestar replied. “We’ve fought battles in them before.”

“Really?” Jessy sounded impressed.

Bramblestar was about to embark on the story of the trouble with Sol and WindClan when he saw Squirrelflight returning at the head of a hunting patrol. She was carrying a blackbird; Graystripe and Brackenfur both had mice, while Rosepetal was dragging along a squirrel.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Bramblestar mewed to Jessy. “I need to have a word with Squirrelflight now.” He padded over to the fresh-kill pile, where Squirrelflight and the others were depositing their catch, and beckoned her aside with a flick of his tail.

“Is there a problem?” his deputy mewed.

“I’ve just heard Dovewing calling in the tunnels,” Bramblestar explained. “She was trying to get her old hearing back. And Cinderheart is afraid that Lionblaze will take too many risks in battle because he can’t accept that he can be hurt now.”

Squirrelflight riffled her whiskers thoughtfully, her concern clear in her green eyes. “It’s tough on them,” she meowed after a moment, “but I’m sure they’ll find a new balance in the end. After all, they see every day how their Clanmates have to live, and they both care deeply about the Clan.”

Bramblestar blinked gratefully. “Thanks, you’re probably right. Look, I’m going to give the kittypets a battle-training session,” he went on. “Do you want to join us?”

Squirrelflight gazed at him, her eyes narrowed with faint amusement. “Oh, no, I think I’ll leave that to you,” she mewed. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

Bramblestar’s pelt suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable. “Okay,” he mumbled.

To his relief, the sound of cats brushing through the undergrowth distracted him and his deputy. He turned to see Millie emerging into the open at the head of her patrol, followed by Thornclaw, Ivypool, and Snowpaw. All four cats were bristling with agitation. Bramblestar padded across the clearing to meet them, with Squirrelflight at his shoulder. Brightheart and Whitewing looked up from their task with the bedding, and the rest of Squirrelflight’s hunting patrol gathered around to listen.

“Bramblestar!” Millie burst out. “We found fresh badger scent!”