Bramblestar’s Storm

Chapter 23

Bramblestar sat in the shelter of a hazel bush, watching Minty creep up on a mouse. Frankie and Jessy, the other members of the patrol, were watching from farther around the edge of the clearing.

I can’t believe this! Bramblestar thought wryly. A hunting patrol of kittypets!

But in the quarter moon since the expedition into ShadowClan’s hunting grounds, all three of them were improving their tracking skills—even Minty, who had the twin advantages of being small and light-pawed. The mouse, nibbling something among the roots of a beech tree, had no idea that she was stalking it. She had even remembered to check the wind direction.

Suddenly Minty leaped forward and trapped the mouse under an outstretched paw. “Got it!” she exclaimed.

The mouse let out a squeal of terror.

“Oh, poor thing!” Minty sprang back, raising her paw, and the mouse scuttled off.

Frankie shook his head with an exaggerated sigh, then took off after the mouse and killed it with a quick blow to the head.

“Neat catch!” Bramblestar praised him as he padded back with the body dangling from his jaws.

Minty’s head was hanging as she rejoined the patrol. “I’m sorry,” she mewed. “It freaks me out when they squeal.”

“It doesn’t freak you out anymore when you eat them, though,” Jessy pointed out.

“I know. I’ll try to do better next time,” Minty promised.

“Your stalking was very good,” Bramblestar told her. “Why don’t you see if you can scent some more prey?”

Obediently Minty began sniffing around, and soon picked up another scent trail, following it across the clearing with her nose to the ground.

“Well done!” Bramblestar called to her.

“This is odd,” Minty muttered. “I don’t know this scent, but it must be prey, right?”

Bramblestar and the others watched as she vanished among some brambles at the other side of the clearing, then froze with only her hindquarters and her tail sticking out. Feeling his pelt begin to prickle with apprehension, Bramblestar opened his jaws to taste the air. In the same heartbeat, Minty began to back slowly out of the thicket.

“Er… this isn’t prey at all,” she mewed.

The reek of fox hit Bramblestar in the throat as a snarl sounded from the midst of the brambles. Minty turned and fled across the clearing, her belly fur brushing the grass and her tail streaming out. A young fox exploded out of the thicket behind her.

“Stay back!” Bramblestar snapped at the kittypets.

Bounding forward, Bramblestar met the fox at the center of the clearing and reared up on his hind legs to rake the claws of both forepaws across the fox’s muzzle. The fox let out a bark of mingled pain and surprise, and lunged at Bramblestar, its jaws gaping. Bramblestar ducked aside and managed to land a blow on the fox’s flank before he darted back out of range.

The fox whirled to follow him, but it was already looking confused. It didn’t expect its prey to fight back, Bramblestar thought with satisfaction as he dashed in again and clawed its ears with a swift slash of his paw. Letting out a high-pitched screech of terror, the fox backed off, then spun around and fled out of the clearing, vanishing among a thick clump of ferns. At the same moment another ThunderClan hunting patrol raced into the clearing, with Mousewhisker in the lead.

“We heard the fight!” Mousewhisker gasped. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Bramblestar panted. “Take your patrol and follow it,” he added, “all the way to its den.”

“Right.” Mousewhisker waved his tail to the rest of his patrol, and vanished into the ferns on the trail of the fox.

It’s a good thing they turned up, Bramblestar thought. We can’t hope to clear all the forest of foxes, but we need to know where they are, especially now that we’re hunting across the border.

The three kittypets crowded around Bramblestar, their eyes wide with shock.

“That was amazing!” Frankie exclaimed.

“I never thought a cat could take on a fox like that,” Jessy added, her eyes glowing. “It was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“It wasn’t hard,” Bramblestar mewed, wanting to scuffle his paws in the earth like an embarrassed apprentice. “It was a young fox, and easy to confuse. Besides, it’s quite common for us to have to chase off a fox or a badger.”

“A badger!” Minty squeaked. “Purdy told me about those. They’re huge!” She glanced around her fearfully as if she expected a massive black-and-white animal to erupt out of the bushes at any moment.

“Believe me, they’re really rare,” Bramblestar reassured. “We chased the badgers out of the forest a long time ago. But I can show you a few techniques to keep in mind, if you like.”

Minty took a pace back, looking as if she might never leave the tunnels again. But Jessy and Frankie both pricked their ears with interest.

“Yes, show us,” Frankie mewed. “You never know; we might meet something nasty.”

“Mostly you use the fighting techniques you’re already learning,” Bramblestar explained. “But you need to practice dashing in to strike and then away again, like I did just now. That works even better with badgers, because they’re slower than foxes. Another move you can try is to spring onto the badger’s back. You can claw it to your heart’s content up there, and it can’t get at you.”

“On its back?” Minty breathed, horrified.

“Show me the spring,” Jessy urged.

“Okay.” Bramblestar took a pace forward that brought him to her side. “First, get into the hunter’s crouch.” As Jessy pressed herself to the ground, he added, “Now, remember that your hind legs—”

He broke off as he spotted movement in the corner of his eye, and looked around to see Squirrelflight emerge into the clearing. She bounded over to him with an anxious look in her green eyes.

“I heard about the fox,” she told him. “Is everything okay?” Glancing down at Jessy, she went on, “Uh… what are you doing?”

“Discussing ways to fight off a badger,” Bramblestar meowed.

“Oh… are you?” There was an odd note of strain in Squirrelflight’s voice. “We met a badger once in the old forest; do you remember? Me and you and Thornclaw, when I was your apprentice.”

She raised her head, and her eyes locked with Bramblestar’s. His memories came flooding back. She looked at me like that back then, too, he recalled. Just for a heartbeat, as we ran from that badger.

Squirrelflight gave her pelt a shake. “I’ll go check for any more traces of that fox,” she mewed.

“Be careful,” Bramblestar warned her.

“I can look after myself,” Squirrelflight responded. “You trained me well.” There was warmth in her voice, but the brilliance of her gaze faded as she looked down at Jessy. She swung around abruptly and loped out of the clearing.

Bramblestar glanced down at Jessy, patiently waiting. Great StarClan! he thought. Is Squirrelflight jealous because I’m training Jessy now? That’s ridiculous!

Jessy wriggled out of the crouch and turned half away, giving her chest fur a few vigorous licks. Bramblestar thought she looked embarrassed.

“We should head back to the tunnels,” he decided. “Frankie, don’t forget your mouse.”

“I’ve decided that if I meet any foxes or badgers I’m going to run away very fast,” Minty announced as they trekked back toward the camp. “Or climb a tree. They can’t climb trees, can they?” she added anxiously to Bramblestar.

“No, they can’t,” he reassured her.

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” Minty decided.

On the way back, a light rain began to fall, quickly becoming heavier. Bramblestar lashed his tail with frustration. After a few dry days, he had hoped that the bad weather was over.

When they arrived at the tunnel entrance, he found Lilypaw, Snowpaw, Dewpaw, and Amberpaw dashing up with bunches of leaves in their jaws to cover up the fresh-kill pile, which had only been moved into the open the day before. Poppyfrost, Lilypaw’s mentor, was supervising them.

“Hurry up,” she urged them. “Or we’ll all be eating soggy mice!”

“Amberpaw!” Spiderleg called from the tunnel mouth. “Get in here right away! Your cough will get worse if you stay out in the rain.”

“My cough’s fine,” Amberpaw grumbled, though she obeyed her mentor and trotted into the tunnel.

The remaining apprentices quickly covered the fresh-kill pile, pausing for a moment so that Frankie could deposit his mouse. Graystripe and Millie appeared, dragging a squirrel between them, then headed for shelter, pausing to shake rain off their pelts before they slipped past the mudfall. Poppyfrost and the apprentices raced after them.

Bramblestar thought how much easier it was to cope with rain in the stone hollow, where all the den roofs were reinforced with brambles and ivy to keep the nests dry. We could settle in to talk or take a nap, and wait for the sun to come out again. Here, it’s uncomfortable whatever we do.

The kittypets headed for the tunnel, and Bramblestar was about to follow when he spotted Leafpool brushing through the sodden undergrowth with a bundle of herbs gripped in her mouth. Bramblestar nodded to her as she padded up, rain dripping from her whiskers. “That looks like a good haul,” he commented.

“I went nearly to the top border to find them,” Leafpool told him, setting her bundle down. “They’re daisy leaves, to help ease the aches and pains in the older cats. Purdy, of course, and Graystripe, Sandstorm, and Dustpelt. Not that they’ll admit they’re old,” she added with a half-amused, half-impatient snort.

“Don’t look at me,” Bramblestar protested. “It’s not up to me to tell them when to become elders.”

“I know.” Leafpool sighed. “But living in this tunnel isn’t helping, I can tell you.”

She picked up her herbs again and slid past the mudfall. Bramblestar followed her to see that most of the Clan was already there. The tunnel was unpleasantly crowded, the air thick with the scent of wet fur.

From farther down the passage, Bramblestar could hear Daisy’s voice raised in annoyance. “What were you apprentices thinking of?” she scolded. “How many times have you been told not to go farther down the tunnel than the last nests? Does every cat have to watch you every moment of the day? And as for you, Cherryfall and Molewhisker, you should be ashamed of yourselves for encouraging them.”

“Sorry,” Cherryfall muttered.

“But it’s boring down here,” Molewhisker retorted. “I’ve been stuck in this tunnel for moons!”

“Boring?” Daisy was unimpressed. “I’ll show you boring. If you need something to do, you can play hunt the tick on Purdy.”

“What, all of them?” Purdy grunted. “I’ll be prodded to death!”

The thick air and the voices of his Clanmates seemed to press in on Bramblestar. For a moment he felt that he couldn’t breathe. I have to get out of here. “I’m going to check the water levels,” he announced to no cat in particular.

“I’ll come with you,” Lionblaze offered, rising from his nest and pushing between Birchfall and Cloudtail to reach his leader.

Bramblestar noticed that the golden-furred warrior was still limping badly from the wounds he had suffered in the battle with the kittypets. “No, you need to rest,” he ordered.

“I’ve rested until I’m sick of it!” Lionblaze snapped.

“Bramblestar’s right,” Cinderheart mewed, stroking Lionblaze’s side with her tail. “You need to be more patient.”

Lionblaze glared at his mate. “I’ve been patient!”

“I’ll come with you, Bramblestar,” Cloudtail offered, heaving himself to his paws.

“Thanks. Let’s go,” Bramblestar meowed, turning away from Lionblaze. He’ll have to accept that things are different for him now.

Outside the rain was as heavy as ever, but after the crowded tunnel Bramblestar didn’t mind the cold water seeping through his pelt. He took deep breaths of the damp air as he and Cloudtail headed through the dripping trees.

“The Great Battle seems so long ago,” Cloudtail meowed after they had trotted in silence for a while. “And at the same time, it feels as if it was less than a moon away.” He sighed deeply. “I miss Firestar.”

Is he telling me I’m no good as leader? Bramblestar wondered for a moment, guilt clawing at him. Then he remembered that Cloudtail was Firestar’s kin.

“I miss him too,” he murmured.

“Oh, you’re doing a great job!” Cloudtail assured him, suddenly cheerful. “Just trust your instincts, and trust Firestar to have made the right choice!”

The older warrior’s praise warmed Bramblestar, and he felt more optimistic as they came into sight of the floodwater. But he was puzzled as he padded along the water’s edge looking for the marker sticks.

“Have they all fallen over?” he muttered. “I’m sure I put one just here!”

“Hey, Bramblestar!” Cloudtail called.

Turning, Bramblestar saw that the white warrior was standing a couple of fox-lengths up the slope, a marker stick poking out of the ground beside him. Another stick stood a few tail-lengths away, and another: a whole line of them stretching along the slope well above the edge of the flood.

Relief surged through Bramblestar, making him dizzy. “The water’s going down!”

“Brilliant!” Cloudtail’s blue eyes gleamed. “We will get our home back; you can be sure of that.”