Bramblestar’s Storm

When they had gone, Bramblestar looked around. Most of the cats were out on patrol now, except for Millie and Briarlight, Purdy and the apprentices, and Thornclaw, who was deep in sleep, worn out after his tough night on watch. It had to be a good idea to keep to the Clan’s daily routine as much as possible, if only to stop them from worrying.

In spite of Sandstorm’s advice, Bramblestar was too restless to stay in the tunnel for long. He padded out and headed for the cliffs, his pelt soaked and muddy again as he tried to find a clear route through the undergrowth. By the time he reached the top of the hollow he saw that Leafpool and Cherryfall had made their way down the steep path and were swimming around in the flood, grasping at scraps of floating greenery. Their voices drifted up to him.

“Leafpool, is this anything useful?”

“No, it’s just an oak twig. I found some tansy, though.”

“Yuck! That’s just slimy tree bark!”

Bramblestar turned at the sound of paw steps and saw Sandstorm padding up to him. He tensed, expecting a scolding for leaving the tunnel, but understanding shone in the she-cat’s green eyes.

“Firestar always found it hardest when he had to let his Clanmates do something dangerous,” she mewed. “He felt that because he had nine lives, he could spare a few!”

“He was right.” Bramblestar felt a wave of guilt sweep over him. “I should be the one to hunt in the flooded forest, or go swimming in the hollow after herbs.”

Sandstorm touched his ear with her nose. “You can’t do everything,” she murmured. “You have to trust your Clanmates.”

“I know,” Bramblestar sighed, but he felt a sharp pang of envy for his warriors, who were able to act on his orders.

He returned to the tunnel with Sandstorm to check on the cats who remained there. Briarlight was sleeping at last, with Millie drowsily licking her pelt. Purdy was asleep, too, while Dustpelt had lined up the apprentices and was testing them on their knowledge of the warrior code. Bramblestar was pleased to see him keeping the young cats occupied and out of trouble.

Not long after, Cloudtail returned with his hunting party, dragging three rabbits with them.

“Good job!” Bramblestar exclaimed. “I didn’t expect you to bring back as much as that.”

“We didn’t exactly catch it,” Cloudtail admitted, dropping his rabbit near the entrance to start a new fresh-kill pile. “These rabbits drowned. The floodwater must have washed them out of their burrow.”

“That’s crow-food!” Snowpaw spat, his lips curling back and his white pelt beginning to fluff up. “I’m not eating that.”

“Then you can go hungry,” Dustpelt snapped, swiping the apprentice over the ear with his tail.

“It’ll be okay,” Bramblestar meowed. “Those rabbits can’t have been dead long. We’re all hungry and we need to eat. We’ll find live prey soon.”

But when the other hunting patrols returned, Graystripe was empty-pawed, while Bumblestripe’s cats had only managed to kill one thrush.

The rabbits are starting to look a lot more appetizing, Bramblestar thought.

Sandstorm and Blossomfall began to dole out the prey, while Leafpool and Cherryfall returned with the few herbs they had managed to salvage. Leafpool found a hole in the tunnel wall to act as a store. Jayfeather and Brightheart weren’t far behind, carrying yarrow and marigold.

“It’s a start,” Jayfeather commented as he placed his herbs in the hole beside Leafpool’s. “But we’ve got no cobweb at all. I just hope no cats cut themselves.”

“Bramblestar?” Cloudtail beckoned him aside with a wave of his tail. “I need to tell you something.”

“Not more trouble?” Bramblestar asked, his belly starting to churn unpleasantly.

“I’m not sure. When I was leading the patrol along the floodwater, I drank some. The water tasted very odd. Do you think it could be poisoned?”

“Great StarClan, I hope not,” Bramblestar meowed. Had something bad been washed into the flood? “Show me where you went. I’d like to taste it for myself.”

He followed Cloudtail as the white warrior retraced his steps to the flood. It still felt very strange to see a huge lake lapping halfway up the hillside. How are we going to survive in the middle of all this water?

Cloudtail halted at the water’s edge. “Just here,” he meowed.

Reminding himself that a taste of the water hadn’t killed Cloudtail, Bramblestar crouched down and lapped. Cloudtail was right: The water did taste different. But Bramblestar had encountered the sharp tang before.

“It’s salty, like the water from the sun-drown-place,” he told Cloudtail, straightening up again and flicking drops from his whiskers.

“How has that water reached all the way here?” Cloudtail asked, amazed. “Is the lake going to turn into a sun-drown-place?”

“I don’t know,” Bramblestar admitted. “But I can tell you one thing. It isn’t poison. I swallowed enough of it when we traveled there and I fell in. But we still can’t drink it. The few drops I tasted have just made me more thirsty.”