“I think we ought to hunt in places where prey might go to shelter,” Bumblestripe suggested. “Like a bramble thicket, or maybe the abandoned Twoleg nest.”
“Great idea!” Cherryfall agreed. “Let’s go to the nest.”
Anything to get out of this wind for a bit, Bramblestar thought.
He brought up the rear as Bumblestripe led the patrol along the old Thunderpath. Now they were battling into the wind, their eyes watering and their pelts pressed flat to their sides. Every paw step was a massive effort, as if the wind was trying to pluck them up and send them crashing into the trees.
When the Twoleg nest came in sight, Bumblestripe and the others halted, staring in dismay at the fallen branch and the damaged plants.
“Leafpool worked so hard over that!” Cherryfall gasped.
“And she and Jayfeather will put it right again as soon as this wind drops,” Mousewhisker reassured her.
Bramblestar couldn’t share Mousewhisker’s optimism. His memory of Jayfeather’s ominous omen was too strong, and he glanced around with his ears pricked. But all the trees within sight had their roots firmly fixed in the ground.
Bramblestar followed Bumblestripe and the others into the tumbledown den. Cherryfall puffed out a sigh of relief as she stepped inside. “Sheltered from the wind at last!” she mewed, smoothing her whiskers with one paw.
“Keep quiet and listen for prey,” Bumblestripe ordered.
In a brief moment of silence when the wind dropped, Bramblestar picked up a strong scent of mouse and heard the patter of their tiny feet above his head, where strong, straight, Twoleg-crafted branches were supporting the roof.
Bumblestripe had heard it, too. “Up there,” he whispered, pointing with his tail.
“I’ll go!” Cherryfall lightly climbed the wooden slats that were fixed to the far wall. From the top she made a graceful leap onto one of the branches.
“Be careful!” Bramblestar warned.
The young she-cat stalked along the branch. Farther along, in the shadows, Bramblestar could just make out a flicker of movement that told him a mouse was there.
But as Cherryfall was readying herself to pounce, a powerful gust of wind hit the den. One of the flat stones that formed the roof was torn free and clattered away. Cherryfall jumped in shock and lost her balance. Yowling in terror, she fell, her body twisting in the air. She just managed to snag the bulky wood with one claw before she plummeted to the ground.
“Help!” she wailed.
“Can you climb back up?” Bramblestar yowled.
Cherryfall stretched up with her other forepaw, but she couldn’t grasp the smooth surface. “I’m slipping!” she gasped.
“Mousewhisker, go after her,” Bramblestar ordered. “And for StarClan’s sake, watch where you’re putting your paws.”
Mousewhisker bounded up the wooden slats and leaped neatly onto the end of the branch. Balancing carefully in the center, he headed toward Cherryfall.
“Come on,” Bramblestar meowed to Bumblestripe. “Let’s collect dead leaves, debris, anything to break her fall if she loses her grip.”
Together they scraped up the earthy litter that lay on the floor of the den, then darted outside to find more. Bumblestripe tore up moss from the side of the den, while Bramblestar scraped up a clump of yarrow that grew near the door. The pile was growing, but agonizingly slowly, while Cherryfall dangled above it.
Mousewhisker had reached the point on the branch where his Clanmate was hanging. He stretched down, trying to grab her scruff, but it was just out of reach. While he strained, he brushed against Cherryfall’s leg, dislodging her precarious grip. She uttered a wild screech as she fell.
Bramblestar darted forward just in time to break her fall. She slammed into him, knocking him to the ground, and his head cracked against the stone floor. Darkness sparkled over Bramblestar’s vision. Voices echoed around him, seeming to come from a long way off. Am I losing a life? he wondered.
Then the voices sounded more clearly and he recognized the tones of Cherryfall and Mousewhisker.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry I let you fall.”
“Oof—all the breath’s knocked out of me! But I’m fine, I think.”
Then another voice, more distant, joined them. “What’s going on in there?”
Bramblestar sat up groggily. His vision cleared and he saw Ivypool peering through the entrance to the den, with her patrol clustered anxiously behind her.
“Cherryfall fell off the branch up there,” Bumblestripe explained. “Bramblestar was great—he broke her fall.”
Ivypool’s eyes stretched wide. “Are you hurt?” she mewed. “You should go straight back to camp and let Jayfeather check you out.”
“There’s no need,” Bramblestar protested, rising to his paws. The walls of the den whirled around him.
“And hedgehogs can fly,” Ivypool retorted. “You can barely stand. And don’t try to hide your paw from me, Cherryfall. I can see the blood on it.”
“It’s only a ripped claw,” Cherryfall muttered.
“It needs treating!” Ivypool hissed.
Bramblestar sighed. “Okay, Ivypool, keep your fur on. We’ll go back. But I still want that mouse caught. Mousewhisker and Bumblestripe, you can stay here and try again.”
Bumblestripe nodded. “We’ll get it, don’t worry.”
Bramblestar led the way out of the den with Cherryfall limping behind him. Ivypool and her patrol flanked them as they returned to the camp.
“Any sign of WindClan on the border?” Bramblestar asked Ivypool.
“Not a sniff,” the silver-and-white tabby told him. “As far as we can scent anything in this wind. We didn’t spot any more of those white birds, either.”
Back in the hollow, Bramblestar sent Cherryfall to her nest, then headed for the medicine cats’ den. Both Jayfeather and Leafpool were there, sorting piles of herbs.
“How am I supposed to keep my stocks tidy when the wind is this bad?” Jayfeather was grumbling as Bramblestar brushed past the bramble screen. “I no sooner put a stem down, when it’s gone.”
“We need to do this as fast as we can, and then shove everything down to the bottom of the cleft,” Leafpool meowed.
Jayfeather snorted. “And what do you want?” he asked, looking up at Bramblestar with his intense blue gaze. “Not another skirmish with WindClan?”
“No,” Bramblestar replied. He explained what had happened at the Twoleg nest. “Cherryfall has a ripped claw,” he finished. “I sent her to rest in the warriors’ den. Leafpool, I thought you could take a look at her there.”
Jayfeather’s eyes narrowed. “Are you the ThunderClan medicine cat, Bramblestar, or am I?” He sighed. “Okay, Leafpool. Better take some marigold, if it hasn’t all blown away.”
When Leafpool had slipped out carrying the herbs, Jayfeather faced Bramblestar again. “Go on, then,” he meowed. “What do you want to talk about?”
“How do you know I—”
“You sent Leafpool away deliberately, right? Don’t waste my time, Bramblestar.”
“It’s about the omen,” Bramblestar began. “Was this the disaster we were warned about? I saved Cherryfall—does that mean I defeated the omen?”
Jayfeather looked thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “With all this wind, it’s impossible to think straight.”
“Then you can’t help?” Bramblestar asked.
“With the omen? No. But I can still help with your injuries. Sit still while I examine you.”
Bramblestar’s paws were itching to get back to his patrol, but he forced himself to wait while Jayfeather ran his paws expertly over him.
“You’ve got a bump on your head,” the medicine cat mewed. “And does it hurt when I do this?” He gave Bramblestar a sharp prod in the shoulder.