Bramblestar’s Storm

Rosepetal jumped back across the stream, hanging her head as she halted in front of Bramblestar. Blood was trickling from a scratch on her ear. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I lost my temper. But they started it.”

“Never mind who started it,” Bramblestar meowed. “Sorry,” he called to Weaselfur and the rest of the WindClan cats. “Our apprentice fell into the stream. Spiderleg was just helping her out.”

Weaselfur sniffed. “Then she should watch where she’s putting her paws.”

Bramblestar understood why the WindClan cats were so touchy. We may have united to fight against the Dark Forest… but we’re four Clans, not one, and borders need to be respected once more.

To his relief, Weaselfur relaxed and waved his tail for the rest of his patrol to take a step back. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he growled. “And don’t think you can jump across here any time you feel like it.”

“She said sorry!” Berrynose spat at him.

“How’s the prey running in WindClan?” Bramblestar asked with a glare at Berrynose, while Spiderleg clambered out of the stream and shook himself, spattering his Clanmates with icy drops.

“Fine,” Weaselfur replied coolly. “More rabbits than we can count. What about ThunderClan?”

“Oh, prey is coming back now the cold weather is over,” Bramblestar told him, sounding more optimistic than he felt. “We’re looking forward to the warm seasons. And how is Onestar?” he added. “And Sedgewhisker? I haven’t seen her at a Gathering for a couple of moons.”

“Onestar is fine,” Leaftail responded. “And Sedgewhisker is expecting Emberfoot’s kits. She’ll be in the nursery for a while yet.”

“Congratulations,” Bramblestar mewed, meaning it. “Well, we’d better be getting along.”

He turned to the rest of the patrol. Millie was helping Amberpaw to groom her wet fur, while Berrynose stood close to Rosepetal, licking her scratched ear. At Bramblestar’s signal he stopped and headed upstream again.

“Good-bye!” Bramblestar called to the WindClan patrol.

“You lot should try going for a swim!” Amberpaw added cheekily over her shoulder. “You need cooling down!”

Spiderleg instantly bounded to her side and gave her a cuff over the ear, his claws sheathed. “Mouse-brain!” he muttered. “That was a lucky escape back there.”

Once the patrol had left the WindClan cats behind, Berrynose dropped back to pad along beside Bramblestar. “Rosepetal seems okay,” he mewed. “I was worried the WindClan cats might have hurt her.”

Bramblestar gave Berrynose a puzzled look. Have I missed something? he wondered. Berrynose is still Poppyfrost’s mate, right?

“We’ve lost so many she-cats,” Berrynose went on. “Hollyleaf, Sorreltail, and Ferncloud in the Great Battle, and Icecloud and Hazeltail from greencough. Now it’s newleaf, and none of the survivors are expecting kits.”

Bramblestar realized this was true. He felt guilty that he hadn’t thought about this himself, and he was struck by how serious Berrynose sounded. Maybe he’s growing up at last, he thought. He used to be a real pain in the tail…

“We need to think about replacing the fallen warriors,” Berrynose pointed out. “If we don’t, we’ll be weaker than the other Clans. We’ve just heard that kits are due in WindClan. We need to heal from the wounds of the Great Battle and make ourselves strong agin, but how can we do that if we have fewer cats than the other Clans?”

Chapter 2

Bramblestar pushed his way through the thorn barrier into the camp with the rest of the patrol behind him. The sun shone down into the hollow, casting long shadows across the ground. Above the cliffs, the trees rustled gently and a warm breeze stirred the dust on the ground.

Bramblestar could still see traces of the terrible conflict when the warriors of the Dark Forest had poured into the camp: fresh bramble tendrils entwined with the old in the walls of the nursery, and broken branches on the hazel bush that screened the elders’ den. It was too easy to close his eyes and be plunged back into the storm of fighting and blood, with cats both dead and alive attacking from all sides. The Dark Forest cats had flung themselves into battle in a furious quest for power and vengeance, and it had taken all the strength of the living cats—and the strength of StarClan—to beat them back. Bramblestar gave his pelt a shake, trying to recall his earlier optimism. At least the dens were repaired, and the surviving cats had recovered from their wounds.

But the scars we can’t see will be harder to heal.

When the battle was over, Jayfeather had propped a bark-stripped branch against the cliff below the Highledge. He had scored claw marks across it, one for each life taken by the Dark Forest.