They had rested for a while more in the meeting hollow before finally turning back home. Along the way, the King had stopped the party to hunt on the hill side. Brambletooth spotted the rabbits again, the creatures having dared to leave the safety of their burrow when the cats had left. He gave a grunt to the group, signaling with his tail that he had spotted food.
Emberstar had licked his lips hungrily and had already gotten to a crouch. He gave a nod to Willowfoott and the grey tom had complied, taking Redwind and Adderbite with him to get in position near a hedge row several tree lengths away from the rabbits.
When the King had seen Willowfoot's group in position, he burst to his feet, springing after the rabbits. Brambletooth and Rainclaw following close behind to support their lord. As he watched Emberstar give chase, Brambletooth thought that the King didn't look to be dying. The image of the great warrior leaving to join their warrior ancestors in the sky made him shudder.
The king kept up with the rabbits, only lagging behind due to the smaller creature's great speed. The prey had ducked and banked, trying to throw their pursuers off. They passed a bush and from the side, Adderbite burst out, his ginger pelt making look like a streak of flame. One of the rabbits dived right into his paws and the tom bit into the prey's neck.
The other rabbit swerved to the left, hoping to escape the fate of its friend. With a great leap, King Emberstar closed the distance. He knocked the rabbit over with a swipe of his paws, biting into it. The creature gave a faint shriek, its legs kicking before stilling forever. The tabby then let go with a satisfied smirk, his greying muzzle stained with red, warm blood.
The group sent a short prayer to Starclan before they moved to gorge on their fresh kill. Under the shade of a large oak tree, they broke their fast, enjoying the taste of the rabbit.
Emberstar naturally took the first bite as his right as King. Willowfoot took the second, for he was the King's brother and deputy. They were followed by Adderbite, who was the third oldest amongst the group.
Brambletooth sat on his haunches, watching the older toms gorge on the flesh. The younger warriors waited for their turn and finally, the rabbit was pushed to them. The meat was soft and tender and it filled his belly. Brambletooth and the rest of the young warriors had listened to Emberstar and Willowfoot tell the tale of an old battle they had fought against Deepwood King during their youth. Adderbite, who had been present at said battle remained silent, quietly chewing on the rabbit bones and only speaking when the King asked him to confirm the story.
Their meal was done, and the bones had been buried under the oak tree. With any luck, the stray seeds would draw substance and a small, strong sapling would take root and sprout.
The Sun hung high in the sky when they had made it back to camp. Two Tafurs stood at the entrance of the bramble tunnel, the impenetrable barrier of bushes and thorns that protected the very heart of the River Kingdom.
Around the edge of the wall, a moat had been formed. Wolfheart, a white tom with grey paws, had been responsible for building the defenses. With his team of Tafur builders, the soft earth around the camp had been dug up. Clay had been pressed against the upturned dirt to strengthen it. Finally, hundreds of sticks and branches had been brought to the moat, their ends sharpened to form a dangerous stake.
In his kit hood, Brambletooth remembered a young Silverblaze taking him and the other clan kits to play around the moat, back when it was being constructed. They had slid down the slope and weaved between the spikes. When Rippleflower, Emberstar's mate had caught them, she was furious, and had sent them to change the elder's nest for a whole moon.
Like a hedgehog's bristles, the defenses would force any foolish enemy army to be funneled into one single point, the bramble tunnel.
The Tafurs dipped their heads at the sight of the king and Emberstar gave them an affirming nod before slipping into the tunnel. Behind him, his guard followed suit with Brambletooth taking up the rear. At the end of the bramble entrance, he saw the russet tail of Redwind disappear into the light. He surged forward, free from the darkness of the tunnel and entered the main clearing.
Around him, cats of all ages were wandering around, free from their daily duties. They shared tongues and ate their prey. Queens watched over their kits playing under their watchful eye while a pair of elders were grooming each other.
The Ember Hold, which the main camp was known as, was not the original capital. From their seat on Blackfish's Island, Creekclan had reigned as the first Kings of the River. They had claimed a natural Island that had formed in the midst of the northern stream of the River Tendrils. The waters had formed a natural moat and on both sides of the bank was an abundance of fish and game.
For 10 generations they had ruled, until Burningstar, leader of the newly formed Streamclan rebelled and waged a war to claim control. Emberstar's ancestor had won and Creekclan's leader was stripped of his nine lives and turned into a mere officer. After that, the capital had been moved to the Splintered Forest.
The new capital, though less defensible, was considerably larger. Burningstar had used a natural clearing as his seat. The forest canopy provided cover from the eagles and hawks that hunted above and its undergrowth teemed with life. River Tendrils gave them a natural source of water. Bramble bushes and branches were in ample supply and as Streamclan grew stronger, so did its heartland.
At the centre of the camp stood the King's rock, a massive stone ledge that gave the King an area to speak. Below the base of the rock, a crack had formed and had been hollowed out inside. No one knew how a formation like this had occurred, but the kings of Streamclan claimed it as their den. Around the edges of camp, the tafurs, cats of low blood, had created clumps of dens that clung to the walls like ticks to a pelt. Their dens were disorganised and unruly, with some throwing together a cobble of moss and leaves to form nests. Larger families planted ferns and bushes and when their investments had taken root, crowded under the shelter of the leaves.
At the north side of the camp, an ancient willow had fallen into the camp many seasons ago. The builders had fortified the gap that it had made in the bramble wall and Reedflower claimed the hollowed-out trunk as her den. The medicine cat was there now, applying a poultice of herbs onto the cut shoulder of Whitepaw, Brambletooth's apprentice.
Emberstar gave his consent for them to leave. The tom made his way towards the King's rock where underneath its shade, the young prince Tigerpaw mock battled with Bluepaw. The two youngsters circled around each other, back furs bristling before leaping at each other in a flurry of fur and sheathed blows. Near the base, Rippleflower kept a watchful eye, her bright silver coat creating a contrast against the grey stone. Upon seeing her mate, the pretty mollie made her way to the king and the two shared an affectionate nuzzle.
Further away, Brambletooth spotted his father, Ashenmaw sharing words with Wolfheart. The two were toms deep in conversation. He padded over to them and gave a mew to alert them to his presence.
"Father, Wolfheart. '' He greeted. The grey warrior dipped his head in acknowledgement and his father beckoned with his tail for him to sit down.
Ashenmaw was in his twilight years, his muzzle streaked with white fur. His father was a massive tom, and he took after him in terms of his grey tabby pelt. He was one of the strongest warriors in the clan yet for every winter that passed, his great strength waned.
A half-eaten vole was passed to him and Brambletooth kindly rejected it. Ashenmaw dragged it back to himself and took a bite before turning to face his son. "Your mother wishes to know why the King dragged you out of your nest before Dawn."
"I am the King's guard. Wherever he goes, I follow." He said simply, flicking his tail. Brambletooth loved his mother but sometimes, he felt that she treated him as if he was still a kit.
His father said nothing, only pushing the vole over to Wolfheart. Happily, the warrior took the morsel and finished it in a few rapid bites. The white tom got up, stretching his muscles. "I shall leave you with your son my friend. Clearly, he has something to tell you." With that, he took his leave and Brambletooth was left alone with his father.
He made sure that Wolfheart was out of earshot when he finally spoke about his mission.