Bramblestar’s Storm

As Dustpelt studied the heap, Bramblestar glanced around again. The panic was over by now and the cats were chatting excitedly about what had happened. He could sense that they were dizzy with relief, that what had seemed to be a dreadful accident had turned out to be not too bad after all.

Bramblestar spotted Dewpaw scooping up a pawful of mud and throwing it at Snowpaw, who ducked to dodge it before scraping up some mud of his own.

“That’s enough of that!” Ivypool scolded.

“We can’t get any dirtier than we already are,” Dewpaw pointed out with a cheeky glint in his eye.

Ivypool sighed. “Apprentices!”

Meanwhile Poppyfrost, Dovewing, and Bumblestripe were helping Leafpool and Jayfeather to check every cat who had been close to the mudslide for possible injuries. But even the cats who had fallen were unhurt.

If this is what Jayfeather’s omen foretold, Bramblestar thought, then we’ve had a lucky escape.

“We want to take Whitewing, Ivypool, and the apprentices to the WindClan stream to get a wash,” Dovewing reported, padding up to Bramblestar.

Bramblestar flicked his ears back uneasily. “Is that a good idea after all that trouble with WindClan?” he asked. “Can’t they wash in the lake?”

“No, the lake water has that awful tang of salt,” Whitewing meowed, picking her way over the muddy ground to join Dovewing. “We’d never get it out of our fur.”

“Okay, then,” Bramblestar decided. “But if you do meet a WindClan patrol, don’t get into a fight about the water. We have enough problems without that.”

“We won’t,” Dovewing promised. Waving her tail to beckon the apprentices, she led the way across the hill in the direction of the WindClan border.

“What do we need to do?” Squirrelflight asked, padding around the mudpile with a disgusted look on her face. “Don’t tell me we have to shift all this.”

“No, Dustpelt thinks we can shore it up and use it as a windbreak,” Bramblestar replied. “There’s still room to get in and out.”

Dustpelt struggled up at that moment, dragging a branch. “We need more of these,” he panted. “And stones, as big as you can manage. If we pack them in at the bottom of the pile, they’ll stop it from spreading.”

“Right,” Squirrelflight mewed. “I’ll find some other cats to help.” She bounded off.

As Bramblestar helped Dustpelt to shove the branch into position, he heard Lilypaw’s voice coming from behind him.

“We’re supposed to be having hunting practice. But I can’t find Poppyfrost and Bumblestripe anywhere.”

“Nor can I,” Seedpaw added.

Bramblestar glanced over his shoulder. “They’ve gone to the WindClan stream,” he told the apprentices. “They’ll be back soon.”

Lilypaw and Seedpaw looked disappointed.

“Can we help you instead?” Seedpaw asked. “What are you doing? What do you need?”

The two apprentices crowded up, sniffing curiously at the branch that Dustpelt was still pushing into place.

“We’ll get more!” Lilypaw announced, but as she turned she skidded in the mud and Seedpaw tripped over her.

“For StarClan’s sake!” Dustpelt snapped. “A cat can’t move around here for nuisancy apprentices!”

“But we want to do something useful!” Seedpaw protested, scrambling to her paws.

“Then go and do it someplace else,” Dustpelt muttered. “I’m sure you can think of something.”

“Find a warrior to take you hunting,” Bramblestar suggested, but the two apprentices were already scampering away. I hope they don’t get into trouble, he thought.

He was about to follow them when he was distracted by Leafpool, who came limping up to him, wincing at every paw step.

“What’s the matter?” Bramblestar meowed. “Did you wrench your paw when the earth fell?”

Leafpool shook her head. “No, it’s that wretched piece of wood again, the one that caught Jayfeather earlier,” she complained. “I was sure we’d moved it out of the way, but it must have rolled back.”

“You’re not badly hurt?”

“No, just annoyed,” Leafpool replied. “That stick is more trouble than the mudfall!”

A stick? Bramblestar thought suddenly. A stick causing trouble? Where have I heard of a stick recently? Then he remembered. Jayfeather’s Stick of the Fallen! The apprentices spotted it this morning, wedged in the branches of that oak tree. What if they’ve gone back to fetch it?

He glanced around, but Lilypaw and Seedpaw were nowhere to be seen.

This is ridiculous! Bramblestar told himself. You’re not a medicine cat; you can’t interpret omens. But uneasiness was rising inside him like the lake water, his paws itching to be on the move. Maybe I have bees in my brain, but I have to go check for myself.