Rising Storm

Chapter 15

Over the next few days, the streams in ThunderClan territory dwindled until the only water available was near the RiverClan border, on the far side of Sunningrocks.

"There's never been a greenleaf like it," grumbled One-eye. "The forest is as dry as a kit's bedding."

Skyfall searched the sky for any clouds, sending a silent prayer to StarClan that rain would come soon. The drought was forcing the ThunderClan cats to fetch water nearer and nearer to the place she and Cinderpelt had sheltered the sick ShadowClan warriors, and she didn't want her warriors returning with any traces of the disease. At the same time, she was almost grateful for the distraction of worrying about water, which left the others less time fussing about Skyfall. Willowpelt especially had nearly smothered Skyfall as she herded her into the nursery and kept an eye on her until Whitestorm convinced her to let her resume her duties.

The sunhigh patrol had just returned, and Frostfur was organizing a party of elders and queens to go to the river to drink. They gathered in the narrow shadows at the edge of the clearing.

"Why would StarClan send such a drought now?" Smallear complained. Out of the corner of her eye, Skyfall saw the small gray tom glance her way and held back a flinch as she remembered the elder's anger over the broken ritual.

"It's not the dryness that bothers me," rasped One-eye. "It's all the Twolegs out in the forest. I've never heard so many crashing around, scaring off the prey and ruining our scent markers with their stench. A bit of rain might drive them away."

"Well, I'm worried about Willowpelt," meowed Speckletail. "It's quite a journey to the stream and back, and she doesn't like to leave her kits for so long. But if she doesn't drink, her milk'll dry up and her kits will starve."

"Goldenflower, too," Patchpelt put in. "Perhaps if we each carried back moss soaked in water, they could lick the moisture from that?" he suggested.

"That's a great idea," Skyfall meowed. She wondered why she hadn't thought of that herself as Mudfur had done the same for her not long ago. "Can you bring some back today?"

The old black-and-white tom nodded.

"We'll all bring some," offered Speckletail.

"Thank you." Skyfall blinked gratefully at her. She couldn't help thinking about how her own apprentice would've jumped at the opportunity to help the elders. He'd always enjoyed listening to their stories and sometimes sharing their meals. But he was recovering from the fox attack and his shoulder seems to be giving him more and more trouble each day.

She called to Sandstorm and Brackenfur, who were resting in the shade of the nettle patch after the sunhigh patrol. They leaped up at once and trotted over to her.

"Would you escort Smallear and the others?" Skyfall meowed. "I don't know how close to the river they'll have to go, and they'll need some backup if they bump into a RiverClan patrol." She paused. "I know you're tired, but the other cats are out training, and I need to stay with Whitestorm to guard the camp."

"No problem," meowed Brackenfur easily.

"I'm not tired, Skyfall," insisted Sandstorm, fixing her with her leaf-green gaze.

"That's good," replied Skyfall, nudging Sandstorm with her nose. "Maybe I'll assign you to a hunting patrol later, then."

She watched as the patrol padded out of her gorse tunnel leaving her in the deserted clearing. Whitestorm was with Bluestar, in her den. Willowpelt and Goldenflower were in the nursery with their kits. Skyfall noticed Tigerclaw's kit padding around the camp on unsteady legs these past few days, encouraged by Goldenflower. She'd found herself avoiding his eyes, and had looked on warily as, little by little, it joined in with Clan life.