Bramblestar’s Storm

When he emerged into the clearing again, followed by the medicine cat, he saw Squirrelflight returning with Dustpelt and Brackenfur. They all gathered together at the foot of the mudpile.

Jessy was standing nearby, her eyes bright with interest, but she didn’t join the others, as if she wasn’t sure if she was invited.

“Jessy,” Bramblestar mewed, “could you find Frankie and Minty and help them practice their hunting moves?”

“Sure,” Jessy replied, heading off cheerfully with her tail in the air.

“So what’s all this about?” Squirrelflight asked when the kittypet had gone.

“I think I can guess,” Brackenfur growled.

Graystripe nodded. “The badgers, right?”

Bramblestar told them about his patrol the day before, and how they had found badger scent and the evidence of a battle just inside ShadowClan’s extended hunting grounds. He added what he hadn’t even told Graystripe and Brackenfur yet: his conversation with Tawnypelt and her plea for help.

“Are you completely mouse-brained?” Dustpelt growled when he had finished. “You know how much trouble we got into with Rowanstar when we fought off those kittypets.”

“Yes, let ShadowClan fight their own battles now,” Brackenfur agreed.

Bramblestar had expected to get this response, but at the same time he couldn’t bear to picture his sister and her Clan struggling against the badgers alone. “What do you think, Graystripe?”

“I know how you feel, Bramblestar,” Graystripe began, “but none of us want to fight again. Look how badly injured Lionblaze was. You could easily lose warriors if we take on the badgers. Is that what you want?”

“But the badgers are very close to our territory,” Squirrelflight reminded the others. “If we don’t deal with them now, we could be storing up trouble for later.”

“True.” Dustpelt raised one hind paw and scratched his ear. “But we can meet that trouble when it happens.”

A cough shook Sandstorm’s body before she spoke. “Remember the time the badgers attacked us in the stone hollow?” she rasped. “What if we fight them and they follow us back here? We’re barely surviving as it is.”

“So what you’re all saying,” Bramblestar mewed, “is that we should deal with the badgers if they interfere with our hunting, but not before?”

Murmurs of agreement came from all the cats, though he thought Squirrelflight remained doubtful. He knew he couldn’t argue anymore. “Okay,” he decided, “I see your point. But I want to lead a patrol up there now, to see if there are any new developments. We’ll have to keep a close watch on ShadowClan territory from now on. The first sign that those badgers are crossing into our adopted territory, we have to be ready for them.”

No cat objected to that. Bramblestar led them all out, except for Sandstorm, who went back to finish her story for Purdy. For once the graceful she-cat didn’t ask to go with the warriors, but seemed happy to go back to the tunnel.

By now the forest beyond the border was becoming familiar to the ThunderClan cats. Bramblestar was aware of the moment when they reached the invisible boundary with ShadowClan. There were no scent markers, but fresh scents of the rival Clan drifted to his nose from close by.

“This is weird,” Brackenfur muttered. “Do you think these borders could ever become permanent?”

“You mean, extend our territory out here and still keep it safe?” Dustpelt sounded doubtful. “Could we even do that?”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to,” Bramblestar meowed, dismayed at the thought of trying to keep such a long border efficiently patrolled.

As the patrol padded along the edge of ShadowClan territory Bramblestar began to pick up new scents of blood and fear, along with the strong reek of badger. His pelt prickled. “There must have been another fight since yesterday.”

“That’s not our problem,” Dustpelt reminded him sharply.

“Especially if Rowanstar hasn’t asked for our help,” Graystripe added. “We could find ourselves fighting ShadowClan as well as the badgers.”

With no evidence that the badgers had come any closer to ThunderClan hunting territory, Bramblestar knew there was nothing to do but turn around and head back to camp. His anxiety for ShadowClan and Tawnypelt was growing with every sign of conflict, yet he didn’t know what he could say to his Clanmates to change their minds.

Desperate for a quiet place to think, when he reached the camp he climbed the slope until he could sit alone above the tunnel entrance. Warmed by the sun on his shoulders, he looked down at his Clanmates.

Lionblaze had just entered the clearing at the head of a hunting patrol. They were loaded down with prey: two squirrels, a blackbird, and more mice than Bramblestar could count. Lionblaze had recovered from his wounds, and his golden tabby pelt gleamed in the sunlight. When he had dropped his catch on the fresh-kill pile he padded up to Cinderheart, touched noses with her, and gave her ears a loving lick. The two cats withdrew to a sunny spot and stretched out together to share tongues.