Bramblestar’s Storm

“You’re a kittypet?” Tawnypelt’s eyes stretched wide as she gazed over Bramblestar’s shoulder. “And there are more of you?”

Glancing back, Bramblestar saw that Frankie and Minty had appeared from the trees with Dovewing.

“Are you completely mouse-brained?” Tawnypelt yelped. “Giving food and shelter to kittypets at a time like this?”

“They would have died if I’d left them in the flood!” Bramblestar growled, aware of Jessy bristling by his side.

“That’s hardly your problem,” Tawnypelt retorted. “Well, I guess I can’t expect you to help us if you’re too busy feeding kittypets.”

Bramblestar forced himself not to get angry. She’s not usually this short tempered. It’s only because she and her Clan are in trouble. “Firestar showed me that compassion is a sign of strength,” he responded calmly.

“Firestar would have put Clan cats first!” Tawnypelt snapped. She turned and stalked away, then paused to look back over her shoulder. “Forget I said anything, Bramblestar,” she hissed. “Rowanstar will figure out a way to save us.”

“Wow!” Minty exclaimed, watching Tawnypelt vanish into the bushes. “She’s really fiery! I can see why you don’t get along with ShadowClan.”

“That’s Bramblestar’s sister, Tawnypelt,” Dovewing informed her. “She’s okay.”

Bramblestar was torn between anger and worry for his sister. Things must be really bad in ShadowClan if she’s coming here to ask for help. He knew how proud Tawnypelt was of her adopted Clan. I’m sure Rowanstar knows nothing about this.

“Is everything okay with Tawnypelt?” Dovewing asked him.

Bramblestar hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to give away. “Not really,” he replied at last. “But she’s no worse than the rest of us, struggling to survive the flood.”

Bramblestar led his patrol back to the camp, pausing to pick up Jessy’s thrush on the way. When they reached the tunnel, Frankie headed straight for Millie, who was helping Briarlight with her exercises near the entrance.

“Look what Dovewing and I caught,” he meowed, laying the shrew proudly at Millie’s paws.

“Very good!” Millie’s eyes glowed as she gazed at the kittypet. “You see, it just takes a little while for you to settle in here.”

“And Jessy caught a thrush all by herself,” Minty added as some of the other cats gathered around to look. “She climbed up the tree and leaped through the branches just like a real forest cat!” Minty sounded as pleased as if she had caught the thrush herself.

“Good job,” Squirrelflight mewed, giving the thrush a sniff. “We’ll take you out with the apprentices next time.”

“They’re all doing well,” Dovewing put in. Half joking, she added, “Maybe we should give them some fighting lessons next.”

Jessy and Frankie exchanged a glance. “I’m up for it,” Jessy declared. Frankie looked less certain, but nodded a heartbeat later.

Minty took a step back. “I’ll stick with hunting, if that’s okay.”

Bramblestar went to look for Sandstorm, and found her inside the tunnel, fluffing up the bedding to help it dry out. He remembered she’d been ill; though she wasn’t coughing now, he didn’t like the sound of her rasping breath.

“Did you want something, Bramblestar?” she asked, turning toward him.

Bramblestar paced the tunnel restlessly as he told her about his meeting with Tawnypelt. “What do you think Firestar would have done?” he asked her.

Sandstorm had listened quietly, sitting with her tail wrapped around her paws. “I think you’re asking the wrong question,” she mewed. Her green gaze was fixed on him. “You should be asking yourself what you should do.”

“I don’t know,” Bramblestar confessed. “That’s why I’m asking for your opinion.”

Sandstorm flicked her tail-tip back and forth for a couple of heartbeats, thinking. “You haven’t welcomed Rowanstar formally as ShadowClan’s leader yet,” she pointed out at last. “And there’ll be no more Gatherings until the water goes down. Why not visit him? If his Clan is obviously in trouble, it wouldn’t be too difficult to ask if he wants help. Then he can make the decision whether to accept or not.”

Bramblestar sagged with relief. “You’re right,” he meowed. “Why didn’t I think of that? What kind of leader am I if I have to ask you what to do all the time?”

“You don’t ask me all the time,” Sandstorm mewed briskly. “You’re doing fine. I’m glad Tawnypelt felt that she could come and ask you for help,” she added. “Sometimes Clan boundaries cause more damage than they’re worth.”

The two hunting parties returned at sunhigh. Not that we can see the sun, Bramblestar thought. Sometimes I think we’ll never feel its warmth again. When every cat had finished eating, Squirrelflight began to organize the afternoon patrols.

“I don’t mind going out again,” Jessy offered. “Hunting this morning was fun.”

“I’ll go too,” Frankie mewed.