Bramblestar’s Storm

Bramblestar twitched his tail in rising frustration. Can’t she even tell the difference between a branch creaking and a mouse scuffling?

He opened his jaws, ready for a harsh comment, when Dovewing stepped between him and Minty, motioning him away with a jerk of her head. “Come on, Minty,” she mewed. “Let’s listen together. Can you hear that loud creaking noise? The one that’s repeated every couple of heartbeats?”

Minty listened for a moment, then nodded.

“What do you think that is?” Dovewing asked.

“Er… a branch moving in the wind?”

“Very good,” Dovewing praised her. “Now… that rustling sound, just behind you. No—don’t turn your head and look!”

“Ferns.” This time Minty sounded more confident.

Bramblestar realized that Dovewing was drawing on her own experience of being able to hear everything. Her patience with Minty was clearly comforting the kittypet, making her feel less out of place.

Frankie was busy practicing his stalking and crouching, so Bramblestar padded on slowly with Jessy by his side. “Where did you learn to climb?” he asked the brown she-cat.

“My mother taught me,” Jessy replied. “I’ve always dreamed of living among trees!”

“Well, now you are,” Bramblestar purred. “And it’s even better than this when the lake isn’t flooded.” Halting to point through the woods with his tail, he added, “There are lots of different trees down there, closer to the shore. Well, there used to be. I don’t know if they’ll survive being underwater.”

“You’re really worried that the water won’t go down, aren’t you?” Jessy guessed.

“Yes, I am,” Bramblestar meowed. “Not just for ThunderClan, but for all the Clans.”

Together the two cats wandered on in companionable silence. But while they were still some way from the ShadowClan border, Bramblestar heard a faint hiss coming from the trees ahead. Pausing to taste the air, he stiffened, feeling every hair on his pelt begin to rise.

ShadowClan scent!

Bramblestar suspected that a ShadowClan patrol had crossed the border. He motioned Jessy to get back with a wave of his tail, wishing that he weren’t stuck out here alone with only a kittypet.

Then a tortoiseshell head peered out from behind a bush, and Bramblestar let out a puff of relief.

“Tawnypelt!” he cried. “What are you doing here?”

Chapter 19

As Tawnypelt emerged from behind the bush, Bramblestar was aware of Jessy stiffening, her claws sliding out and her neck fur bristling as if she was ready for a fight.

Of course, Bramblestar thought, she’s heard all about how hostile ShadowClan is, and she saw the WindClan intruders for herself.

“It’s okay, Jessy,” he meowed. “This is Tawnypelt, my sister. Wait here while I speak to her.” He padded forward the few paw steps that brought him close to his sister. Tawnypelt was looking very thin, her tortoiseshell fur ruffled and her eyes wide. “Is Rowanstar okay?” Bramblestar asked.

“He’s as well as the rest of us,” Tawnypelt replied. “But… oh, Bramblestar, ShadowClan is in big trouble. We’ve lost our camp and nearly all our hunting grounds. Our territory is so low-lying that the water has covered nearly all of it.”

“You’re right, that’s bad,” Bramblestar mewed. “ThunderClan is struggling, too. We’ve started hunting beyond the top border; has Rowanstar thought of doing that?”

“Yes, but our patrols ran into some trouble…” Tawnypelt lowered her head, looking uncomfortable, and scrabbled her paws in the grass.

“What kind of trouble?” Bramblestar prompted her.

Tawnypelt took a deep breath. “There are kittypets who seem to think that part of the forest belongs to them,” she told her brother. “They attacked our patrols.”

“Kittypets?” Bramblestar blinked in surprise. “Not the ones who live in the Twoleg nest in your territory? I thought we’d taught them a lesson.”

Tawnypelt shook her head. “No, they went off with their Twolegs when the water started to rise. These are different cats.”

“And they managed to chase off ShadowClan warriors?” Bramblestar found that hard to believe.

“There were a lot of them!” Tawnypelt protested. “And we… we’re so hungry all the time, we’re not as strong as we were.”

Bramblestar could understand that. Compassion for his sister clawed at him; he could see she was torn between pride and the desperate need for help. “What do you want me to do?” he meowed. “Do you want me to give you some of our fresh-kill? That could be difficult…”

Before Tawnypelt could reply, Jessy bounded up to his side. “Hi!” she mewed to Tawnypelt.

Bramblestar wished that the kittypet had stayed where he left her. “This is Jessy,” he told his sister. “She’s staying with us for a while.”

“I live with my housefolk over there,” Jessy added with a wave of her tail across the lake. “But they left when the floods came.”