Bramblestar’s Storm

For a moment Bramblestar was outraged. I raised this cat! I licked him warm when he was a kit, and comforted him when he got a thorn in his pad. And now he’s making comments about my private life! Then he remembered that Jayfeather wasn’t a kit anymore. He was ThunderClan’s medicine cat, with every right to poke his nose into his Clan leader’s business.

“All the kittypets need my time if they’re to fit into the Clan,” he responded, aware that he wasn’t being entirely truthful.

Jayfeather hesitated for a moment, and Bramblestar braced himself for a stinging retort. But then the medicine cat shrugged, as if he too wasn’t comfortable talking about Jessy. “Did you bring me out here to enjoy the night air?” he meowed.

“No,” Bramblestar replied. “I had a dream…” Struggling to find the right words, he told Jayfeather about Yellowfang’s appearance beside the lake, and the blood that had risen when her paws touched the water. He repeated the mysterious words she had spoken. “She said, ‘Blood does not have to mean death. It can bring more strength than you can imagine.’ Jayfeather, what do you think she meant? Is there going to be another terrible battle? Was Yellowfang trying to warn me?”

Jayfeather twitched his whiskers. “It doesn’t sound like a warning of doom,” he admitted. “It’s more like… something strong. It’s obviously connected with that other dream you had, about Firestar,” he continued. “‘When water meets blood, blood will rise.’”

“And what does that mean?” Bramblestar asked tartly. “Why can’t StarClan tell us something clearly, instead of talking in riddles?”

“StarClan tells us as much as they want us to know,” Jayfeather retorted. “And sometimes even they don’t hold all the answers. You can’t expect them to know everything. Sometimes they are just cats, like us. Trust your own instincts, Bramblestar. That’s why StarClan made you leader, because they had faith in you.”

Bramblestar returned to his nest, and this time his sleep was untroubled by dreams. When he woke, sunlight was pouring in through the tunnel mouth, and most of the nests around him were empty. He sprang to his paws, alarmed that he had overslept.

“Take it easy, Bramblestar.”

At the sound of Jessy’s voice Bramblestar turned to see the brown she-cat sitting in her nest with her tail wrapped neatly around her paws.

“I told the others not to disturb you,” she mewed. “I know you were awake during the night.”

“That’s kind of you,” Bramblestar responded, half-appreciative and half-annoyed, “but a Clan leader can expect to have broken nights.”

“But you’re not just a Clan leader,” Jessy pointed out, rising to her paws and padding over to Bramblestar. “You’re a cat, too. You need to look after yourself as well as everyone else.”

Bramblestar touched his nose to her ear. “Maybe you’re right.”

He padded out into the clearing with Jessy following him, to discover that the first patrols had already gone out. Squirrelflight was heading down the slope with Bumblestripe, Berrynose, and Rosepetal behind her.

“Squirrelflight!” Bramblestar called, pleased that he had caught her. “I need a word with you.”

His deputy halted and turned to Bumblestripe. “You lead the patrol,” she ordered. “Check the water levels, then try hunting over toward WindClan. We haven’t been there for a day or two.” She watched the patrol leave before bounding over to Bramblestar. She looked faintly surprised when she saw Jessy with him, but gave the she-cat a polite nod. “How can I help?”

Bramblestar glanced around, spotting Graystripe beside the fresh-kill pile and beckoning him over with a wave of his tail. “Are any of the other senior warriors still here? I need to speak with all of them.”

“Cloudtail and Thornclaw are on a border patrol,” Squirrelflight replied. “Brackenfur and Dustpelt went to look for more branches for the dens, but they only just left. I’ll see if I can catch them.” She shot off into the undergrowth.

While he waited for her to return, Bramblestar went back into the tunnel, where he found Sandstorm talking to Purdy. For once she was telling him a story. “So Firestar—he was Firepaw then—was hunting in the old forest and he came upon this skinny old gray she-cat…”

“Sandstorm, I need you outside for a moment,” Bramblestar meowed.

“Sure.” Sandstorm rose to her paws. “I’ll finish the story later, Purdy.”

The elder looked up at her, blinking. “See that you do,” he purred. “You spin a good yarn.”

Sandstorm stifled a mrrow of amusement. “Praise indeed!”

Bramblestar padded farther down the tunnel, where he found Jayfeather hauling himself out of his nest, his jaws parted in a massive yawn. Leafpool was still asleep.

“Jayfeather, I’ve called a meeting,” Bramblestar meowed. “Come and join us outside.”