Bramblestar’s Storm

Scanning the edge of the flood, Bramblestar guessed that the branch had been swept away by the wave that had knocked Squirrelflight and Briarlight underwater. He thought he could spot it floating several fox-lengths away, but there were so many pieces of debris tossing on the flood that he couldn’t be certain it was the right one. “It’s gone,” he meowed. “Washed away.”

“But it held the memory of our dead Clanmates!” Jayfeather wailed.

“No, our hearts and minds hold those memories,” Bramblestar reminded him. “And the branch saved the cats who needed its help. Now we hold that memory as well.” When Jayfeather did not reply, he added, “When all this is over, you can make another.”

Jayfeather mumbled agreement and turned away.

Brackenfur took the lead as the little group of drenched cats plodded up the hill under the trees. His shoulders ached under Briarlight’s weight, and his paws kept slipping on the muddy ground. Branches lashed at them, the trees almost bent double in the wind. Closer to the cliffs the ground was more open, and the going would be easier, but Bramblestar didn’t dare go closer to the edge. We could all be blown over, back into the hollow.

“I’m going to fetch some of the others to help,” Squirrelflight announced, breaking into a run.

Where does she get her energy? Bramblestar wondered, feeling as weary and battered as the oldest elder. He carried on toiling up the slope until he saw Squirrelflight coming back with a group of his Clanmates. Millie was racing ahead, stumbling and skidding in her haste to get to her daughter. Graystripe was close behind, with Lionblaze and Cinderheart.

“Briarlight!” Millie screeched as she reached Bramblestar and the others. “Are you okay?” She covered her daughter with frantic licks.

“I’m fine,” Briarlight replied hoarsely. “My Clanmates looked after me.”

Millie turned toward Bramblestar, blinking in gratitude. “Thank you,” she meowed. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

Bramblestar felt hot with embarrassment. “Every cat helped,” he mumbled.

Lionblaze stepped forward. “Here, let me carry her. You must be exhausted.”

Bramblestar was only too willing to let the other cats transfer Briarlight from his back to Lionblaze’s. As they set off up the slope again, Graystripe gave Bramblestar a boost under his shoulder, while Squirrelflight and Cinderheart helped Purdy. At the top of the slope Bramblestar saw that Sandstorm had gathered the rest of the cats under a beech tree. It didn’t give much shelter, but although the branches lashed and groaned in the wind, they were sturdy enough not to snap. Soaked and scared, the cats huddled together in a mass of drenched fur.

Several pairs of eyes stared anxiously at Bramblestar as he reached them. “We’ll stay here until the storm passes,” he decided. “Try to get some rest if you can.” He sank to the ground where he was, dazed with tiredness and only half-aware of Squirrelflight coming to lie next to him, warming him with her fur.

Bramblestar woke to a strange calm, and for a moment he wondered where he was. He should have been asleep in his den on the Highledge, not dozing uncomfortably on a thin layer of fallen leaves. Then he saw branches densely blocking out the sky above him, and heard his Clanmates stirring, and he remembered the desperate escape from the hollow in the middle of the night. The rain had stopped and the wind died down to a faint, whispering breeze. The sky was still covered with cloud, but it was much thinner, and a silver glow suggested that the sun had climbed almost to sunhigh. Bramblestar hauled himself stiffly to his paws and padded out of the shelter of the beech tree.

From up here, he could look out at the whole lake and the land beyond. For a moment he swayed on his paws. The forest was a wreck of swirling water and floating debris. Water reflecting the pale gray sky had risen up the sides of the hill and spilled over the far shore, swallowing up the fields as far as Bramblestar could see.

RiverClan has been completely flooded! he thought, every hair on his pelt rising in horror. WindClan should be okay, he added to himself as his gaze swept around to take in the moor. Their camp is pretty high up. His belly lurched when he turned to look out across ShadowClan territory. The flat area of pines was waterlogged, with only the top halves of the trees sticking up above the flood.

“This is terrible!” Birchfall gasped, padding up behind Bramblestar. “What has happened to the other Clans?”

“We need to worry about our own Clan first,” Bramblestar replied. We’re in no state to help any other cats.