Chapter Seven
Cherryfoot always thought that Brambleclaw walked with an air like he had somewhere more important to be, but she had never seen that used more appropriately than when she watched him pace across the camp and disappear into Firestar’s den, all before she had managed to take a bite out of her mouse.
Dustpelt, sitting nearby, seemed to have noticed the rush and immediately followed, giving a stern look behind him at Cherryfoot as she immediately got up to follow.
She laid back down, keeping her ears pricked towards the leader’s den, but the toms were speaking in such low tones that she could have probably been right outside and not captured more than a few words. She couldn’t help but think that it was a little unfair that she had been the first to report all of these sudden quakes, and now she was being left out of all these important discussions. Shouldn’t she be allowed her opinion?
She tried not to linger on the thought, but dug into her prey a little more viciously than she might normally.
Almost exactly as she finished her mouse, she watched Firestar emerge from his den, and then head towards the camp entrance, with the other two toms in tow. Cherryfoot twitched her tail irritably, and then finally got up, padding over to Cinderpelt’s den, deciding she could relay her frustrations to her sister. She paused on the way there and took a large bird from the prey pile, thinking the seers may appreciate a gift.
It seemed Maplepaw has also seen what had happened, and was now discussing it with Cinderpelt, though she looked up as Cherryfoot approached.
Cherryfoot dropped the bird in front of Cinderpelt, and without preamble, asked, “So what do you think of all this?”
Cinderpelt seemed happy for the meal, though she snorted into the bird’s feathers at Cherryfoot’s bluntness. “Hello to you, too.”
Unperturbed, Maplepaw answered, “I can’t say. They didn’t come over here and talk to us before they left, so it must be important. Well, obviously, it’s due to the quakes, but…”
“Clearly,” Cherryfoot said, “but what’s got them all in a rush?”
Maplepaw didn’t answer her question, and instead gave a pointed look at Cinderpelt, who didn’t seem to have anything to say. Eventually, the seer apprentice offered a noncommittal noise in her throat. “If it was important for us, Firestar would have told us. Or taken one of us. But we’ll just need to wait for them to come back.” She paused, and then looked back at Cherryfoot with obvious amusement in her eyes. “I’m sure that if you’re patient like the rest of us, you’ll find out.”
Cherryfoot held her tongue, as well as the urge to roll her eyes. Maplepaw had quite patiently put up with her fussing about the whole thing, and she was certain her sister was probably beginning to tire of it, too.
“Relax. Sit with us until they return,” Cinderpelt said. And so she did.
Cherryfoot eventually felt like she really could have been doing something else other than lying in camp, but she wasn’t the only one. Everyone who hadn’t seen Brambleclaw come running back had heard it from someone else by now. She had watched Ryefur excitedly signing the news to Snowface, who was nodding along with a rather serious look on his face. Mousefur even ambled over to check on them, though she ended up going out hunting with Teaselfoot when the boredom got to be too much.
Finally, after what felt like ages, Firestar loped back into camp with Brambleclaw and Dustpelt in tow. He leapt onto the highrock, and called the clan together. Cherryfoot was eager to finally hear some news about this whole thing.
Firestar nodded to Brambleclaw, who sat near the front of the clan and relayed what he had seen with the other cats. It sounded almost unbelievable, the idea that these quakes had opened up these large scars in the ground, and the idea of what that could spell for the clans if they continued was definitely uncomfortable. When he was done, Brambleclaw padded to the edge of the crowd, sitting with his mother.
“Brambleclaw and the other three will be setting off in two nights’ time,” Firestar said. “They’ve going to see how far this spreads, and where we might go if the worst comes.”
On that solemn note, he leapt down, and disappeared back into his den. Dustpelt followed him, and Cherryfoot tried to clear her head of all the wild thoughts swimming through it now. She got up, and crossed the clearing to Brambleclaw, who was heading into the warriors’ den. Now that he wasn’t in front of the rest of them, he seemed tired.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, forgetting her initial plan of trying to ask him for more detail.
He looked over his shoulder and blinked at her, nodding. “I’m fine,” he said, “thank you. Just tired.”
“Well, get your rest. Sounds like there’s a lot ahead of you,” she said, and then turned away, deciding she would go ahead and get hunting -- considering she had spent a good portion of the night waiting and doing nothing.
She couldn’t shake the odd look on Brambleclaw’s face, though, and she found herself wondering what would await him and the other cats in the moon to come.
And although her jealousy at the fact had ebbed, she found herself planning now, mulling on what she would do in two nights’ time.