CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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Beepaw awoke to pelting rain, and hissing medics. "There, grab what matters." Amberfish ordered, racing to the other side of the den to grab a large leaf, she set it on a ledge as Waspwhisper dropped herbs into it, Amberfish closed the leaf and set it in front of Beepaw.

"Can you walk?" She asked. "Of course I can walk! What's going on? Has the storm begun?" He gasped, staring out into the clearing which had started to flood. "Take this," Waspwhisper nudged the leaf of herbs to Beepaw, she had one herself, and it muffled her voice. Amberfish ran from the den then turned back as Beepaw stood up, she had two herb-leaves. "Let's go!" Amberfish urged as Beepaw scooped the leaf bundle into his mouth.

He and Waspwhisper followed Amberfish to the entrance of the camp, water sucked at Beepaw's ankles, making it hard to walk. "Is everyone out already?" He asked, looking around at the empty dens. "They left to stock the moor-camp with prey at sunrise." Waspwhisper answered, following Amberfish as she raced from the camp and over to the moor. Beepaw spotted the moor-camp ahead, the rain plastering his pelt to his body, the water rised and was now pulling at his elbows. "FOX!" A familiar voice called from the distance, making Beepaw freeze. It was Maelstrom.

"We can't stop Beepaw!" Amberfish hissed, pulling him forward. Beepaw hurried alongside the medics, his ears fixed on the voice he had just heard. "You're okay!" Cherryheart gasped after seeing Beepaw. Her eyes were bright with relief as she ushered them inside the camp.

Beepaw's mind was still fixed on Maelstrom's voice in the moor, just like the dream he had. Was it not a dream? He stared off into the water as Thicket's voice sounded. "They weren't dreams." He mumbled, remembering the bundle of herbs in his mouth. "What weren't dreams?" Haypaw asked him, appearing from nowhere, Beepaw flinched as a fat glob of water slammed onto the back of his head. "Let's get inside." Cherryheart mewed, nudging Beepaw and the medics into the moor-camp.

"Oh thank StarClan!" Rockstar huffed, hurrying towards them. "Come get warm." He ordered, taking the bundle of herbs and tucking it safely into a crevice inside one of the caves that Daisypaw and Haypaw dug out. Beepaw saw how the little crevice was high off the ground, Rockstar had to stand on his hind legs to reach it. Smart thinking, he praised, floodwater won't reach it there.
Beepaw turned to Cherryheart as she mewed to him. "Come dry off," she said, guiding him to a separate den, "are you hungry?" Cherryheart gestured with her tail to the new fresh-kill pile. Beepaw was pushed into a nest, he spotted Scorchpaw digging out another den. Cherryheart licked at his fur, her own bristling.

Haypaw stepped into the den and sat beside Beepaw, soon, after a long awkward silence, Scorchpaw joined Cherryheart. The purrs of his sister and friend calmed him, almost enough to lull him to sleep, but it never came. Even long after Haypaw and Cherryheart began to snore.

The whole moor-camp was quiet, apart from the snoring. Beepaw guessed he was the only cat awake. With a sigh, he heaved himself to his paws and sat a tail-length from the entrance of the camp. He watched the rain pour down from the clouds, hitting the floodwater with neat plops.

Maelstrom is real. He told himself, straining his ears to hear the voice again, then he remembered his dream. He remembered how they were sucked into the whirlpool. I never saw if he lived. Beepaw stared into the sky as a flash of lightning cracked through the clouds. A wave of thunder rolled after.

But he called me by my warrior name. The thoughts kept piling up as another rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Beefrost. He thought, gazing into the rippling water below him.

"Help!" Beepaw froze, Maelstrom's voice called out above the rain. They weren't dreams! He stood quickly and made his way over to his voice. "Help me!" Maelstrom cried again. Beepaw halted at the base of the hill, water lapped at the tufts at the end of his paws. Just as he was about to leap into the water, Rockstar padded beside him. "Why aren't you asleep?" He asked, peering into the floodwater with narrowed eyes. "I'm not tired." Beepaw responded, he knew his father had heard Maelstrom's cries.

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