Bramblestar’s Storm

Jayfeather was opening his jaws to argue when Purdy, who had been sitting a tail-length away, nibbling at his mouse, brought the half-eaten prey over to Briarlight and dropped it at her paws.

“You were going to help me with this,” he reminded her. “I can’t finish it. An’ I haven’t told you my story yet.”

“You’ve hardly eaten anything!” Briarlight scolded him. “Come on, share the rest with me, and I’ll listen to the story.”

Purdy flashed Bramblestar a knowing look as he tucked his paws underneath him and waited for Briarlight to take her first bite of mouse. “Well, there was this dog, see,” he began. “Nasty, flea-bitten creature…” He paused as Briarlight swallowed her mouthful, and nudged the fresh-kill closer so she could take another bite.

You clever old cat! Bramblestar thought.

Beside him, Jayfeather was listening to Briarlight’s movements with his head on one side. Grunting in satisfaction, he straightened up and turned to Bramblestar. “It’s full moon tonight,” the medicine cat announced. “We missed the last Gathering because the sky was covered with clouds. It will be interesting to hear how the other Clans have coped with these last two moons of cold and hunger.”

Bramblestar looked around for Squirrelflight and spotted her chatting with Graystripe beside the fresh-kill pile. He beckoned her over with a wave of his tail. “Which cats should we take to the Gathering tonight?” he asked her.

His deputy thought for a moment. “Cloudtail and Cherryfall haven’t been for a while.”

“True, and neither has Cinderheart,” Bramblestar mewed. “I think we should take all the apprentices, too.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes stretched wide. “All five? You must be joking!”

“I’m not. Lilypaw and Seedpaw missed their chance last moon, and it wouldn’t be fair not to take the other three as well. It’s time they found out what goes on at a Gathering.”

Squirrelflight let out a snort of amusement. “If they get across the tree-bridge without one of them falling in, I’ll eat my fur!”

Bramblestar flicked her ear with his tail. “They’ll be fine.” Glancing around, he spotted Blossomfall and Thornclaw in the entrance to the warriors’ den. He felt his pelt prick with suspicion when he saw them with their heads together, and with a pang of guilt he swiveled his ears so he could hear what they were saying.

“I hope I’m chosen to go to the Gathering,” Blossomfall murmured.

“Me too,” Thornclaw agreed. “It’s been ages since we’ve seen the others.”

Bramblestar’s uneasiness intensified. “I hope those two aren’t expecting to rekindle friendships they made in the Dark Forest,” he muttered.

“We need to trust all our Clanmates equally.” Lionblaze spoke up from behind Bramblestar, who turned to face him. “What’s done is done, and can’t be undone.” His golden gaze was fixed on Bramblestar. “In the end, our Clanmates realized where their loyalties lay.”

Bramblestar nodded, remembering that during the Great Battle, as soon as the ThunderClan cats had realized that the Dark Forest warriors were bent on death and destruction, they had all switched their allegiances and fought fiercely for their own Clan.

He saw Squirrelflight’s gaze fixed on Thornclaw and Blossomfall, and knew that she struggled to forgive them. She lost so much in the Great Battle, Bramblestar thought. Her father, Firestar… and Hollyleaf, who was like a daughter to her.

“I understand how you feel,” he whispered into Squirrelflight’s ear. “But if we treat them like outsiders, won’t that encourage them to start looking beyond the Clan again for support?”

“Leafpool has volunteered to stay behind,” Jayfeather put in. “So I’ll be able to come.”

“And I presume I can join you?” Lionblaze meowed. He half released his claws so that they flashed in the sunlight. “Just in case ShadowClan causes more trouble.”

Bramblestar looked around at the three cats: his deputy, his medicine cat, and one of the Clan’s bravest warriors. But they meant far more than that to him. They are my family, he thought, even though they’re not my blood kin. These cats will always be the most precious parts of my life. He felt a jolt of grief as he pictured a black-furred cat with sharp green eyes. If Hollyleaf were still alive, my family would be whole once more.

The sun had gone down when Bramblestar led his cats out of the hollow and down toward the lake. The horizon was still streaked with scarlet, and the surface of the water reflected the dying glow. Bramblestar looked up to see the moon, a huge silver circle, hanging above the trees in a clear indigo sky.