Bramblestar’s Storm

That’s because the next one belongs to the next den, Bramblestar realized. But how else can we reach it? It looks like it’s too far to leap, but we have to try.

He pushed off with all his strength, reaching out with his forepaws. His belly hit the windowsill, and he had to scrabble frantically with his hind paws to pull himself up. And we have to keep on doing this, he thought with a tremor of fear in his belly. Surely one of us will fall? But his Clanmates followed him without any mishaps, even managing to speed up as they got used to the hazards.

When Bramblestar reached the fourth windowsill he was able to look down and get a clearer view of the cat in the tub. Her blue eyes stared up at him, filled with terror.

“Please hurry!” she begged. “There’s water coming into the tub. I’m getting wetter!”

“We’re coming!” Bramblestar called as he readied himself for the next jump.

“Bramblestar, stop!” Graystripe yowled.

Bramblestar froze. “What’s the matter?”

“Look at the next windowsill. Can’t you see that the wood is rotten? It won’t bear our weight.”

Following the gray warrior’s gaze, Bramblestar saw that the end of the windowsill was jagged and loose as if it was crumbling away. “Just like a rotten branch…” he murmured. “So what do we do now?” he asked, not expecting an answer.

“We’ll have to go into the den and find a way out on the lower level,” Graystripe meowed.

Thornclaw flattened his ears. “I’m not setting paw in there!” he exclaimed. “Have you got bees in your brain?”

Dovewing’s whiskers flickered. “Isn’t there another way?”

Graystripe shook his head. “We don’t have a choice if we want to help the she-cat,” he insisted, keeping his voice low.

The she-cat was already beginning to panic. “What’s happening?” she demanded. “Why have you stopped?”

Bramblestar glanced down at her. “It’s okay!” he called.

But he wasn’t sure that was true. The window where he and his Clanmates were crouching was blocked by hard, transparent stuff, and he couldn’t see any way of getting past it. He pressed it with one paw, then butted his head against it, but it held fast.

“Are you trying to get in?” the she-cat asked. “It’s easy! My friend Parsnip lives there, and the windows open if you press them at the top.”

Bramblestar glanced at Graystripe. “Worth a try, I suppose.”

Stretching his forepaws as high as they would go, he thrust at the slippery, transparent window. The bottom swung out toward him, catching him in the belly, and he let out a startled yowl as he felt his hind paws slipping. Dovewing sank her teeth into his scruff, steadying him until he could recover his balance.

“Thanks!” he gasped. Peering through the gap that had opened up at the bottom of the window, he added, “Graystripe, you’d better lead the way.”

The gray warrior crawled through the gap, flattening his body as if he were creeping up on prey. There was another windowsill inside the nest; Graystripe hesitated there for a moment, then jumped down. Dovewing followed him, but Thornclaw took a pace back, his lips curling as if he had just smelled crow-food.

“I don’t like it,” he muttered.

“I’m not asking you to like it,” Bramblestar mewed.

Thornclaw puffed out his breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

While his Clanmate was scrambling through the gap, Bramblestar looked back and called out to the she-cat in the tub. “We’ll be with you in a few heartbeats!”

Inside the den, the scent of Twolegs wreathed around Bramblestar, and every hair on his pelt stood on end. All his instincts were telling him to run, but there was nowhere to run to. Solid white walls loomed all around, trapping him. Then he realized that all the scents were stale, and he managed to relax a little.

What a lot of stuff the Twolegs have in their dens! he thought as he glanced around. The floor was covered in a layer of dense green tufts that Bramblestar thought was grass, until he rubbed his paws against it and realized it was some kind of Twoleg pelt. More soft pelts lay scattered on top of it, and on top of a large, flat object that stood against one wall. There were big structures made out of wood, with hard, straight lines, not the soft contours of real trees.

“This is a bedroom,” Graystripe announced. Meeting blank stares from the other three cats, he added, “The nest where the Twolegs sleep.”

“Fascinating,” Thornclaw muttered.

“Yes. Graystripe, can we just keep going?” Bramblestar meowed.

Graystripe nodded and led the way toward a gap in the den wall. As Bramblestar padded after him he realized how soft the pelts were against his paws. This would be a good place for cats to sleep too, he thought, provided there weren’t any Twolegs.