Bramblestar’s Storm

“I hope so,” Bramblestar replied, remembering his earlier conversation with Berrynose. I really hope so. “Surely there are other cats who could help Daisy?” he went on, thinking that Sandstorm didn’t need to be struggling with bedding, covered in dust and scraps of moss.

Amusement sparked in Sandstorm’s green eyes. “Are you trying to pack me off to the elders’ den?” she teased.

“You’ve served your Clanmates long enough,” Bramblestar responded. “Why not let them take care of you now?”

Sandstorm flicked her whiskers dismissively. “I’ve plenty of life in my paws yet,” she insisted, retreating into the nursery to help Daisy wrestle with a huge clump of brittle, musty moss.

Bramblestar watched the she-cats for a moment longer before turning away. His deputy, Squirrelflight, stood near the elders’ den, sorting out the hunting patrols with Graystripe; like Sandstorm, the former deputy was one of the oldest cats in the Clan now.

“We need the hunting patrols to go out early,” Graystripe was explaining to Squirrelflight. “With the days getting hotter, it’s best to avoid sunhigh for chasing around.”

Squirrelflight nodded. “And the prey will be holed up by then, too. I’ve already sent out one patrol,” she went on, “but I’ll send out another. Brightheart would be a good cat to lead it.” She glanced around. “Hey, Brightheart!”

The ginger-and-white she-cat slid out between the branches that sheltered the warriors’ den. “Yes?”

“I want you to lead a hunting patrol,” Squirrelflight told her. “But stick to one area, and come back before it gets too hot.”

Brightheart dipped her head. “Any particular place?” she asked.

“You could try up by the ShadowClan border,” Squirrelflight suggested. “Millie spotted a nest of squirrels there yesterday.”

“Good idea,” Brightheart mewed. “Which cats should I take with me?”

“Millie, obviously, since she knows where the nest is. Apart from her, any cat you like.”

“I’m on my way.” Brightheart bounded off to call Millie from the warriors’ den. Then she rounded up Dovewing and Mousewhisker and headed out through the thorns.

The barrier was still trembling from their departure when Amberpaw reappeared with a huge bundle of moss in her jaws. As she staggered toward the elders’ den, Bramblestar noticed that the moss was dripping with water, leaving a line of dark spots on the dusty floor of the clearing.

Squirrelflight stepped out to intercept the apprentice as she drew closer to the den. “You can’t take that in there,” she told Amberpaw sharply. “That moss is too wet. It’ll soak all the other bedding and Purdy will claw your ears off for making his legs ache from the damp.”

At the mention of his name Purdy ducked out of the shelter of the hazel bush. “There’s nothin’ wrong with my legs, or my ears,” he snorted.

“How about your pelt?” Amberpaw asked, dropping the moss.

Bramblestar stifled a mrrow of amusement: Purdy’s tabby pelt looked as if he had crawled backward through the thorns, the fur clumped and sticking up as if he hadn’t groomed himself for a moon.

“Eh? Speak up!” Purdy complained. “Why are you mumblin’? Young cats these days always mumble,” he added crossly.

“I was explaining to Amberpaw that she can’t bring wet moss into your den,” Squirrelflight meowed.

“What?” Purdy prodded the bundle of moss. “You’re sure you weren’t tryin’ to bring me a drink instead?” he asked Amberpaw.

The apprentice looked crestfallen. “I was only trying to help.”

“Sure you were, young ’un.” Purdy stroked Amberpaw’s side with his tail. “Come on. You an’ I will spread the moss out here, just outside the den, an’ it’ll soon dry in the sun. An’ while it does that, I’ll tell you how I once killed a whole nest o’ rats.”

“Yes!” Amberpaw bounced in delight and began spreading out the wet moss.

On the other side of the clearing, Sandstorm headed out of the camp, pushing a huge bundle of used bedding in front of her. Bramblestar slid into the nursery and began helping Daisy scratch together the next bundle.

“Have you heard anything about new kits?” he asked hopefully.

Daisy shook her head. “No, but I’m sure we’ll need the nursery soon, now that newleaf is here.” She paused, then added, “Come and look.”

She led Bramblestar out of the nursery and pointed with her tail to where Lionblaze and Cinderheart were sharing tongues in a patch of sunlight. “That one will be expecting soon,” Daisy mewed, twitching her ears at Cinderheart.

Bramblestar felt a flash of excitement. He remembered play fighting with Lionblaze as a kit outside the nursery, and how he had taught Lionblaze his first pounce. In spite of all that’s happened, I couldn’t have loved those three kits more if I’d been their real father.

Lionblaze looked up and noticed Bramblestar watching him. With a quick word to Cinderheart he got up and limped across the camp to join his leader.

“Did you want me?” he asked.