Moth Flight's Vision

by Erin Hunter

  Moth Flight shifted in her nest, realizing suddenly how stiff her legs were. Perhaps she should listen to the needs of her body. “I guess I could try.” She stood up and stretched. “I’ve never hunted in a pine forest before.”

  “I know a stretch where there’s hardly any undergrowth,” Sun Shadow told her.

  “Is that good?” Moth Flight wondered where the prey hid.

  “There are plenty of ditches, which means we’re bound to find a frog or two.”

  “No, thank you.” Moth Flight wrinkled her nose. “I’ve eaten toad.”

  Sun Shadow snorted. “Frogs taste way better.” He leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “Why would you eat a toad?”

  Moth Flight’s pelt pricked self-consciously. She hopped out of her nest and headed for the entrance. “It’s just something I tried once.” She sniffed as she ducked out of the den.

  Outside, Tall Shadow was talking with Mouse Ear and Mud Paws in the clearing. The ShadowClan leader snapped her muzzle around as she caught sight of Moth Flight. “How are you?” she called cheerily.

  Moth Flight blinked in the sunshine, feeling suddenly furless. Was everyone expecting her to act like she was okay now?

  Sun Shadow brushed past her and nodded to Tall Shadow. “Moth Flight’s agreed to go hunting with me. We won’t be gone long.” He nudged Moth Flight toward the camp entrance as Tall Shadow dipped her head silently.

  Moth Flight slipped out of camp, relieved to be away from the curious gazes of ShadowClan. Juniper Branch had watched her pass, stretched on a soft patch of grass. Raven Pelt had been sorting through the prey pile, glancing up to see her duck through the entrance.

  “This way.” Sun Shadow headed past a stretch of mossy ground and hopped over a fallen tree. One of the spindly twigs jutting from the trunk scratched Moth Flight’s belly as she leaped after him. She winced as she landed.

  “Are you hurt?” Sun Shadow halted.

  “Just a scratch.” Moth Flight didn’t care. Grazed flesh hurt far less than the loss of Micah.

  “Get Pebble Heart to look at it when we get back.” Sun Shadow started walking again.

  “I might find some horsetail and dock while we’re out. That should stop it getting infected.” Moth Flight hesitated as Micah’s words flashed in her mind. If you chew dock leaves and horsetail stems into a paste, you can smear it deep into a wound. Fresh grief swept over her.

  Sun Shadow paused at the top of a pine needle–strewn slope and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

  Moth Flight shook out her fur. “I want to go back to my nest.”

  “You can.” He disappeared over the rise. “After we’ve caught a frog.”

  Moth Flight hurried after him.

  Tall pines towered around her, shielding the sky. Sunlight glimmered between the branches, but the forest floor was cold and damp. She bounded down the other side of the slope and caught up with Sun Shadow as he reached a stretch of shady woodland rutted with ditches. He paused at the first and she stopped beside him.

  “I know what it’s like to lose the cats you love.” He kept his gaze fixed ahead.

  She jerked her muzzle toward him. “You do?”

  “I came from the mountains to find my father.” Sun Shadow appeared to be scanning the ditches, his eyes narrowing as he searched for movement. “He was dead when I got here and the cat I traveled with—Quiet Rain—died shortly after we arrived.”

  You didn’t lose your mate, though. Moth Flight shifted her paws.

  He went on. “Suddenly I was alone, far from my home and from the cats I’d grown up with.”

  “Tall Shadow’s kin, isn’t she?” He wasn’t entirely alone.

  “She’s kin,” Sun Shadow conceded. “But she wasn’t like my kin back in the mountains. She’d become a forest cat. Everything was so different here from what I’d known. Most of the cats couldn’t even imagine what it was like to hunt the peaks. Or to never be warm.” He turned and met Moth Flight’s gaze. “I felt like a stranger. Like no one knew how I felt. It was like being trapped beneath ice, mouthing words to cats who couldn’t hear what I said.”

  Moth Flight blinked at him slowly. Did he actually understand the pain in her heart? “Do you still feel that way?”

  “No.” Sun Shadow’s solemn gaze lit up. “It got better as time passed. I’ve grown to love it here. My Clanmates feel like kin now. We quarrel sometimes, but we look out for each other no matter what. And the hunting is good and, when newleaf comes, and the oak woods turn green and the wind from the moor brings the scent of heather blossom, I am glad I came. And I feel I have gained more than I’ve lost.”

  Moth Flight’s shoulders drooped. “I’ll never feel like I’ve gained more than I’ve lost.”

  “Maybe not.” Sun Shadow leaped the ditch and padded forward. “But you will come to value what you still have, and what you may have in the future.”

  Could that ever be true? Moth Flight followed him, the forest floor turning spongy beneath her paws as pine needles gave way to moss. Water squelched between her claws.

  “Wait!” Sun Shadow dropped his voice, signaling to her to halt with a flick of his tail.

  She followed his gaze and saw a green shape hopping along the edge of a ditch a few tail-lengths ahead. A frog.

  “Do you want to catch it?” Sun Shadow whispered.

  “I’m not the greatest hunter,” she admitted.

  “If you miss this one, we’ll find another.”

  Moth Flight glanced at him, suddenly aware of how comfortable she was in his company. “Micah would have liked you,” she murmured.

  “I think I would have liked him too.” His eyes glowed as he returned her gaze.

  She turned toward the frog and dropped into a hunting crouch. Lift your tail. Gorse Fur’s words rang in her ears. She crept forward, pleased that the soft moss absorbed her paw steps. A tail-length from the frog, she paused and fixed her gaze on its glistening green body. She forced herself not to shudder. The frog hopped another muzzle length and paused. They’re dumber than rabbits, Moth Flight thought. Can’t it smell me? She wondered if the pine-scented air was disguising her scent.

  “Hurry up!” Sun Shadow hissed. “They’re not as slow as they look!”

  Moth Flight kneaded the moss with her hind paws, preparing to jump. Then she leaped, her paws slapping the moss a whisker behind the frog. It jumped, tracing a high arc across the ditch. Moth Flight blinked as it soared away. Bounding over the ditch, she tried to catch it again, her paws sending up water-spray as she splatted the ground half a tail-length behind it. It jumped again, changing direction. Moth Flight spun and tried to knock it from the air, but it had swerved and she landed flat on her belly.

  Black fur flashed past her as Sun Shadow flew across the ditch and landed expertly on the frog. He held it down as it squirmed, its flippers churning desperately. “Do you want to give the killing bite?”

  Moth Flight screwed up her nose. “No, thanks.”

  Sun Shadow ducked and killed it, snapping its spine with a crunch. As he straightened, she saw his whiskers twitching with amusement.

  “What?” She ruffled her fur.

  “You looked funny, that’s all,” he purred. “I can tell you’ve never hunted frogs before.”

  Moth Flight sniffed. “I bet you couldn’t catch a rabbit.”

  “Probably not,” he meowed warmly. “But you still looked funny, like a kit chasing its tail.”

  Moth Flight purred, pleasure rising in her without warning. I must have looked pretty dumb. Then she stiffened. Her purr dried in her throat.

  Sun Shadow watched her, his gaze darkening. “Come on,” he mewed briskly. “Let’s take this back to camp and you can taste it.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Moth Flight turned toward the camp.

  “A mouthful won’t hurt.” Sun Shadow picked up the frog between his jaws and padded after her.

  They padded back to camp in silence. How could I have purred? Guilt ripped her belly. It’s like I�
��m already forgetting him. Suddenly she wanted to cling to her grief. It was all she had left of Micah now. She ducked first through the bramble entrance.

  “You caught one!” Tall Shadow greeted them, lifting her tail happily as she crossed the clearing toward them.

  Sun Shadow dropped the frog. “Moth Flight doesn’t want to taste it.”

  Tall Shadow padded around her. “We can’t send you back to your Clanmates without having tasted frog,” she meowed. “What will you have to boast about?”

  Moth Flight lifted her gaze wearily to the ShadowClan leader. “I don’t want food.” She padded across the clearing and nosed her way into Sun Shadow’s den. Curling deep into her nest, she closed her eyes and let sadness sweep over her. So what if Sun Shadow had gotten used to his new home? How could she betray Micah by getting used to life without him?

  CHAPTER 24

  She woke into a misty meadow and knew at once that she was dreaming. “Micah?” She scanned the swirling fog, straining to catch a glimpse of him.

  “Moth Flight?” His voice echoed from the murk.

  Her heart leaped. Joy surged beneath her pelt. “Micah! Can you hear me?”

  “Moth Flight, are you there?”

  Moth Flight darted forward, searching for him, but there was no sign of him. Only his scent. “Can you hear me?” she repeated, panic rising.

  “Moth Flight?” His voice echoed back, sounding lost. “I need to tell you something.”

  He doesn’t know I’m here!

  “It will be okay.” His mew was tight with worry. “I know you’re sad. I miss you too. I love you. I’ll always love you. Don’t let sadness change you. You have to keep going!”

  “Micah!” Her cry turned to a wail of frustration. “I need to see you!” Why couldn’t he show himself, like Half Moon and the others?

  She glimpsed his eyes sparkling through the mist on the far side of the meadow. They seemed to stare right through her, anxious and searching. She raced toward his gaze, his scent enfolding her as she neared.

  “Keep going!” he called.

  “I’m coming.” She raced harder, pushing against the dewy grass.

  “Don’t give up. You have to be strong. Not just for yourself but for—”

  A paw buckled under her and she stumbled, rolling onto the grass. Pain jerked her awake. “My leg!” Her forepaw was twisted clumsily under her chest. She pulled it free, kneading her paw against the bottom of the nest to ease the cramping. “Dumb leg!”

  Shadow surrounded her nest. It was still night. She growled crossly. Micah was trying to tell me something important!

  As the pain eased, Moth Flight thrust her paws under her muzzle. Perhaps she could finish her dream. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart as irritation pricked beneath her pelt. With every waking moment, her dream would be fading, and Micah with it.

  Be strong! Not just for yourself but for— What was he going to say?

  Outside, an owl screeched through the pines. A ShadowClan cat was snoring somewhere in camp. Wind swished through the branches high above her.

  I’ll never get back to sleep. Heart sinking, she lifted her head. As her eyes grew accustomed to the moonlight that filtered dimly through the brambles, she wondered if dawn was near. She opened her mouth and let the night scents wash her tongue. The dewy air tasted of dusk, not dawn. I’m sorry, Micah. Guilt pricked at her belly. She’d let him down. He’d tried to speak to her and she’d woken up.

  Why was he still roaming the murky meadow? Why wasn’t he in StarClan’s hunting grounds yet? He’d be safe there, with Half Moon and the others. Do farm cats join StarClan? Her fur lifted along her spine. What if she never saw him again? She stared, frozen. The brambles seemed to close in around her. I’ll never be with him. Ever.

  She lost track of time, her thoughts spiraling in and out of panic. I should take a walk. There was no chance of sleep now. But her paws seemed rooted beneath her, her body heavy with dread.

  When dawn comes, it’ll seem better, she told herself. But how long until dawn? Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched though the endless night.

  She must have slept eventually, because Pebble Heart woke her.

  “Moth Flight!”

  She lifted her head sharply. There was fear in his mew.

  “I need your help!”

  She leaped to her paws, her heart lurching. Dawn light showed at the den entrance. “What’s wrong?”

  “Juniper Branch started kitting in the night.”

  “But she’s not due for—”

  “I know!” Pebble Heart’s eyes were wide. “The kits are stuck. She’s pushing, but they won’t come. I’m scared they might die. That she might di—”

  Moth Flight cut him off. “We won’t let them.” She bounded from her nest and ducked through the entrance. Scanning the camp, she tasted the air. The sour scent of fear pulsed from an opening in the brambles beyond the patch of long grass. She headed for it, Pebble Heart at her heels. She nosed her way through a gap in the branches, surprised by the size of the den inside, hollowed from the thick bramble wall.

  Juniper Branch lay beside her nest, her eyes wild with pain. Raven Pelt crouched beside her, his pelt spiked with fear. He glanced at Moth Flight as she slid in beside him, his hackles rising. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to help.”

  “It’s okay.” Pebble Heart padded past her. “She’s a medicine cat too.”

  “She’s young.” Raven Pelt eyed her warily. “Does she know anything about kitting?”

  “Do you?” Pebble Heart returned sternly.

  Moth Flight pressed her cheek to Juniper Branch’s belly. “They’re still moving.” She could feel the kits squirming inside. “They want to come out.”

  Juniper Branch moaned. “I’m trying!” Her body convulsed and she shrieked as pain rippled through her.

  Moth Flight darted behind her and checked to see if there was sign of a kit. The ground was bare. “Could something be blocking them?” She glanced at Pebble Heart. The den was dark, but enough light filtered through the brambles to see his face.

  He looked grim.

  “Raven Pelt.” She turned to the dark tom. “I want you to fetch moss and soak it in water. Juniper Branch will be thirsty.”

  Raven Pelt glanced at Pebble Heart questioningly.

  “Get it,” Pebble Heart told him.

  The tom headed from the den.

  Juniper Branch stared at Moth Flight, eyes dark with fear. “But I need him with me.”

  “He’s not going far.” Moth Flight crouched in Raven Pelt’s place and rested a paw on the queen’s belly. The squirming was stronger. “Pebble Heart and I will help you.” She exchanged looks with Pebble Heart. I hope.

  “Why won’t they come?” Juniper Branch wailed.

  Moth Flight narrowed her eyes, her thoughts quickening. Either something was blocking their way, or they weren’t ready to be pushed out. “They aren’t due for a half-moon,” she murmured to herself. Could Juniper Branch’s body be pushing them out too soon?

  Another spasm gripped the queen. Her belly convulsed.

  “Don’t push!” Moth Flight ordered sharply.

  “But I have to.” Juniper Branch began to pant.

  Moth Flight leaned closer. “Keep panting. Focus on that. We need to stop your body pushing and let your kits find their own way out in their own time.”

  Pebble Heart blinked at her. “She can’t be like this for a half-moon!”

  “She won’t need to be,” Moth Flight told him. Calmness swept over her. She remembered heading into the Highstones tunnel for the first time. She was gripped by the same quiet certainty she’d felt then, as though she knew what to do. “What happens when you stub your paw?” she asked Pebble Heart.

  “It hurts?” He stared at her, puzzled.

  “What else?”

  “It swells up.”

  “Exactly.” Moth Flight rested her paws low on Juniper Branch’s be
lly. Heat pulsed from the queen’s fur. Something was inflamed. “Her body’s not ready yet. I can feel where she’s swollen. And each time she pushes, it gets worse. The swelling is blocking the kits’ way out. She has to stop pushing long enough for it to go down.”

  “So they’ll have room to come out!” Pebble Heart’s eyes widened with understanding.

  Juniper Branch growled. “Another pain is coming.”

  “Keep panting!” Moth Flight darted out of the den and scanned the clearing. Her heart leaped as she saw a thick pine twig lying at the edge. Racing to it, she snatched it between her jaws and headed back to the den. She thrust the twig into Juniper Branch’s jaws. “Bite on this when the pain comes. Put all your energy into biting, not pushing.”

  Juniper Branch screwed up her eyes. A low moan rolled in her throat. The wood cracked between her jaws as she bit down hard.

  “We’re going to need more sticks,” Moth Flight told Pebble Heart.

  He nodded and ducked out of the den.

  Moth Flight lapped Juniper Branch’s belly with her tongue, relieved to feel no spasm reach the kits. “Don’t worry, kits,” she murmured between strokes. “We’ll have you out of there before long.”

  Juniper Branch fell limp.

  Moth Flight jerked her muzzle around and stared at the queen. Her eyes were glazed with exhaustion, but the spasm had clearly passed. The crushed pine twig lay on the ground next to her. “Well done!” she meowed. “You didn’t push that time.”

  Juniper Branch drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “This is going to be difficult,” Moth Flight told her. “You need to stop yourself from pushing for a while longer. Just until there’s enough space for the kits to get out.”

  “It’s hard,” Juniper Branch moaned.

  “I know.” Moth flight felt a wave of sympathy for the queen. “But you have to do it. For your kits.” And yourself. She held Juniper Branch’s fearful gaze. “We are going to help you.”

  As she spoke, Pebble Heart slid into the den. He dropped a fresh twig on the ground. “Mouse Ear and Mud Paws are scouring the forest for more.”

  “Have you got any poppy seeds?” A pang of guilt jabbed Moth Flight’s belly. Had she eaten his whole supply that first night?