Moth Flight's Vision

by Erin Hunter

  White Tail was beside him, squeezing under the branches.

  Moth Flight frowned. Keeping an eye on four kits seemed far more exhausting than it should be. “What are those two doing?”

  “White Tail promised to show him all the secret ways out of camp,” Slate told her.

  “I hope he’s not thinking of sneaking out.” Moth Flight remembered hauling Silver Stripe out of the rabbit hole all those moons ago. How had she been so calm? Dread gouged at her belly as she imagined one of her own kits stuck on the moor and wailing for help. She pushed the thought away. She wasn’t going to let her kits out of her sight.

  She felt a wave of gratitude toward her Clanmates. Among them, someone was always keeping an eye on Bubbling Stream, Honey Pelt, Spider Paw, and Blue Whisker. Even Holly, who was watching Bubbling Stream now, her eyes narrow with disapproval, always knew where they were and what they were up to.

  Reed Tail nosed his way out of the den that Eagle Feather and Dew Nose had hollowed from the heather wall of the camp. They had grown too big to share Jagged Peak and Holly’s den and had moved into their own with Storm Pelt.

  Reed Tail padded across the clearing and paused in front of Moth Flight. “Dew Nose has wrenched a paw,” he told her. “She slipped in a rabbit hole while she was hunting. Shall I use up the comfrey from your herb store or pick fresh?”

  “Use what we’ve got for now and pick some fresh later,” Moth Flight told him.

  He nodded and ducked into the gorse den behind her. Reed Tail had been busy taking care of the Clan’s cuts and sprains over the past moon. Moth Flight had tried to keep an eye on her Clanmates’ well-being, but every time she left the den to check how a scratch was healing or a sore belly was responding to the chervil Reed Tail had given, one of her kits would start mewling with hunger or squeal for help as they climbed the den wall and got stuck among the branches. It seemed that the moment she set paw in the clearing, a desperate wail would call her back.

  “You need to be tougher,” Slate had told her many times. “Let them wail. They’re safe in camp. They’ll survive while you check on your Clanmates.”

  But Moth Flight couldn’t relax. They’ve lost their father! She couldn’t bear for them to be without their mother as well.

  “They have a whole Clan to raise them,” Slate had insisted.

  I don’t want to be like you, Moth Flight had thought. She ignored the truth that Silver Pelt, Black Ear, and White Tail had grown into happy young cats despite their grieving mother. The Clan had indeed raised them, giving Slate’s kits all that kits ever needed: warmth, kindness, food, and protection. My kits are special, Moth Flight told herself. No other cat can give them the love that I can.

  And so she let Reed Tail care for the Clan and told herself that in another half-moon, she’d be ready to return to her duties as medicine cat.

  Slate nudged her from her thoughts with a paw. “Look!”

  Wind Runner and Jagged Peak had padded into camp. Dappled Pelt and Acorn Fur walked between the WindClan cats, glancing at each other with puzzled looks. Wind Runner’s expression was grim. Jagged Peak’s ears twitched uneasily.

  Moth Flight sat up, alarmed.

  Gently moving Blue Whisker aside, she got to her paws. What were Dappled Pelt and Acorn Fur doing here, and why were Wind Runner and Jagged Peak escorting them like prisoners? She crossed the clearing, meeting Wind Runner among the tussocks. “Is something wrong?”

  Her mother’s eyes were dark.

  “I found these two wandering across the moor,” she growled.

  “We weren’t wandering,” Dappled Pelt objected.

  “We were coming to see Moth Flight,” Acorn Fur chipped in.

  Moth Flight glanced at the SkyClan medicine cat. Resentment tugged at her belly. You’ve taken Micah’s place. She swallowed back her bitterness and met her mother’s gaze. “Why shouldn’t they cross the moor?”

  Jagged Peak lashed his tail. “How can you ask that after everything Clear Sky’s done lately?”

  Moth Flight faced the tom. “What has he done?”

  “He keeps sending hunting patrols onto our land!” Jagged Peak bristled.

  Wind Runner growled. “Willow Tail and Jagged Peak found more rabbit remains on the border this morning.”

  “Willow Tail spends too much time checking borders,” Moth Flight snapped. “She should be hunting for her Clan, not searching for gossip.”

  Wind Runner flattened her ears. “Prey theft is more than gossip!”

  Acorn Fur’s tail twitched crossly. “Clear Sky hasn’t sent hunting patrols!”

  Jagged Peak curled his lip. “Then why do we keep finding signs of fresh-kill on the moor?”

  Acorn Fur stood her ground. “How do you know SkyClan left them?”

  Moth Flight’s paw prickled with anger. What a dumb argument! Greenleaf was only just beginning. No cat was hungry. Who cared whether prey was left on one side of a border or another? She glared at Wind Runner. “This has nothing to do with Dappled Pelt and Acorn Fur!” she snapped. “They are medicine cats, not hunters.” Blue Whisker scrambled across the clearing. “Moth Flight!” she mewed as she reached her mother. “Why does Wind Runner look so cross?”

  Jagged Peak glared at Acorn Fur. “Because SkyClan cats are thieves and liars.”

  Blue Whisker looked at Jagged Peak with round, anxious eyes. “Micah was a SkyClan cat. Did he lie too?”

  Jagged Peak stared at the kit, his pelt rippling uneasily. “I never knew him,” he mumbled.

  Wind Runner shifted her paws. “Perhaps we should save this discussion for another time.”

  “Perhaps we should not have it at all!” Moth Flight snapped. She dipped her head to Acorn Fur and Dappled Pelt. “I’m sorry about my Clanmates. They think borders are worth fighting over.” She glanced at Blue Whisker. “Go back to Slate, dear. I have to speak with our visitors.”

  Blue Whisker blinked at her mother. “Will you be long?”

  “No,” Moth Flight promised. She guided Dappled Pelt and Acorn Fur toward the stones beside the entrance. She could feel Jagged Peak’s gaze burning into her pelt. “Is something wrong?” She lowered her voice as they reached the rocks.

  “Nothing,” Dappled Pelt assured her. The tortoiseshell’s gaze drifted after Blue Whisker as she scrambled down into the sandy hollow beside her brother. “Your kits are beautiful.”

  Moth Flight followed her gaze, her heart swelling. Beside the hollow, Bubbling Stream was still urging Storm Pelt to go faster. “They remind me so much of Micah.”

  “They have his spirit.”

  Acorn Fur’s words surprised her. “What do you know about Micah’s spirit?” Moth Flight questioned.

  Acorn Fur dropped her gaze, flinching as though Moth Flight had raked her muzzle. “I worked with him,” she mewed quietly. “He was my friend and I miss him.”

  “We all miss him,” Moth Flight snapped pointedly. Jealousy bristled through her pelt.

  “He spoke about you all the time.” Acorn Fur lifted her gaze cautiously. “He loved you very much. I’m sorry that you lost him.”

  Moth Flight blinked, surprised by the warmth in Acorn Fur’s mew. It’s too late to be nice! She wasn’t going to forgive the SkyClan cat so easily. “You spied on him!”

  Dappled Pelt’s tail flicked uneasily. “Moth Flight, I think you’re being unfair—”

  Acorn Fur interrupted. “You’re right. Clear Sky ordered me to watch him. But I knew, after the first day, that Micah could be trusted. He cared about his Clanmates right from the start. I enjoyed working with him. And I loved helping. One time, Blossom got a thorn in her paw. It was really deep. Micah had to dig around for ages to get it out. He talked to her the whole time, distracting her with jokes and stories of when he was a farm cat. He showed me that there was more to being a medicine cat than learning herbs. You don’t just care about the wound; you must care about the cat.” Her eyes rounded. “He said that’s why StarClan chose you. Because you always knew that better than
anyone.”

  Moth Flight stared at her. She suddenly understood why Micah had liked Acorn Fur so much. She was kind and honest and open. Moth Flight dropped her gaze, her pelt prickling with guilt. How could she have judged Acorn Fur so harshly? She hardly knew her. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Dappled Pelt glanced to where Wind Runner and Jagged Peak were crouched beside the camp wall, watching their visitors through slitted eyes. “We came here for a reason,” she mewed. “Acorn Fur has learned all she can from me and Cloud Spots. Pebble Heart has shared all he knows. Now it’s your turn to train her, just as we trained you.”

  Moth Flight’s ear twitched nervously. “But I have kits now.”

  “You’re still a medicine cat,” Dappled Pelt reminded her. She glanced back at the kits. They were playing happily with their Clanmates, Slate watching them fondly. “It looks like there are plenty of cats to take care of them while you’re busy.”

  Worry jabbed Moth Flight’s belly. “I need to take care of them. They don’t have a father.”

  Acorn Fur shifted her paws before she spoke. “Micah wants you to train me.”

  Surprise rippled along Moth Flight’s spine. Someone is coming to visit you. Micah’s words echoed in her mind. You must help her. I’m depending on you. He’d meant Acorn Fur! “How do you know?” she demanded.

  “I dreamed about him,” Acorn Fur told her. “He told me to come to you and that you would teach me all I needed to learn.”

  Moth Flight blinked at her. Acorn Fur must be SkyClan’s rightful medicine cat if StarClan visited her dreams. “But what about Wind Runner and Clear Sky? Will they want a WindClan cat training a SkyClan cat?”

  Acorn Fur shrugged. “They don’t need to know.”

  Dappled Pelt nodded. “They don’t understand the bond between us. They are hunters, not healers. They only understand prey.”

  Moth Flight dipped her head. Micah wanted her to train Acorn Fur, and he was part of StarClan now. She couldn’t go against StarClan’s wishes. And she didn’t want to disappoint Micah. “Okay.” She glanced longingly at her kits. Blue Whisker had returned to Slate’s side and curled up against her. Bubbling Stream had slid off Storm Pelt’s back and was helping Spider Paw catch imaginary prey in the sandy hollow. Honey Pelt was chasing White Tail toward another gap in the heather wall. They could manage without her for a while. “We might as well start now.”

  “Where have you been?”

  Wind Runner’s accusing mew took Moth Flight by surprise as she padded into camp. The sun was sinking toward the horizon and shooting long shadows across the clearing.

  Moth Flight dropped the bundle of comfrey she’d gathered. “Training Acorn Fur.” I’m not going to lie about it.

  “Why you?” Wind Runner’s hackles lifted. “Surely you understand that SkyClan cats are no longer our friends.”

  “Why not?” Moth Flight demanded.

  “They’ve been stealing our prey.” Wind Runner narrowed her eyes. “And I’m sending patrols across their border to hunt.”

  “What?” Moth Flight stared at her. Did her mother want to cause a war?

  Wind Runner lifted her chin stiffly. “It’s important that we show them they can’t steal from us without consequences.”

  “Has anyone actually seen SkyClan stealing our prey?” Moth Flight demanded.

  “Willow Tail says she saw Red Claw carrying a rabbit over the border yesterday.”

  “And you believe her?” How could her mother be so naive? “Willow Tail hates Red Claw.”

  “That doesn’t make her a liar!” Wind Runner lashed her tail. “It’s not just Willow Tail who’s seen evidence. Fern Leaf caught Red Claw’s scent on our territory. Slate and Jagged Peak have seen bones too. Are they liars?”

  Of course not. But even if SkyClan cats caught a rabbit or two on WindClan territory—who cared? Still, Moth Flight swallowed back anger. She didn’t want to get drawn into her mother’s argument with SkyClan. Her duty was to heal cats, not fight with them. “I’m going to teach Acorn Fur what I know,” she mewed stubbornly.

  Wind Runner’s pelt prickled. “I’m just worried about you, Moth Flight. If Clear Sky catches you with one of his cats, who knows what he’ll do? I’ve known him a long time. He’s capable of more cruelty than you can imagine.”

  “Then it’s important that his medicine cat is well trained,” Moth Flight argued. “If she can earn his respect, she may be able to guide him.”

  “No one has ever managed to guide Clear Sky before,” Wind Runner pointed out.

  “Acorn Fur has StarClan on her side. They want me to train her.”

  “They spoke to you?”

  “Micah did,” Moth Flight told her. “He spoke to Acorn Fur too.”

  “Micah’s not StarClan!”

  Moth Flight’s throat tightened. “He is now.”

  Wind Runner gazed at her helplessly. “Then you’re going to keep on training her?”

  “Yes.” Moth Flight scooped up the comfrey and headed for her den. If Micah wanted her to train Acorn Fur, then nothing would stop her.

  As the days lengthened, Moth Flight kept her word. Each afternoon, she’d leave Slate in charge of her kits and slip out of camp. She was aware of Wind Runner’s gaze following her, dark with worry. But she ignored it, racing to the patch of grass on the moorside where she met Acorn Fur.

  This afternoon, clouds hid the sun and a thin drizzle misted the moor. Moth Flight fluffed out her pelt, hoping Slate would keep the kits in the den. The air was warm, but a wet pelt could mean a chill. She was getting used to being away from them, but she enjoyed their welcome each time she returned home, when they’d clamber over her, purring and begging for badger rides or a game of chase-tail.

  She blinked away raindrops and scanned the moorside. There was no sign of Acorn Fur and no scent either. She glanced at the darkening sky, wondering whether, with the sun hidden, the SkyClan medicine cat had lost track of time.

  Acorn Fur was a quick learner, just as Micah had said. And she seemed to have a deep understanding of suffering as well as a burning need to ease it. Teaching such a willing apprentice had been fulfilling and, in going over her knowledge in such depth, Moth Flight had renewed her own delight in her healing skills. Was it time she relieved Reed Tail of some of his duties? She frowned. She already felt that she spent too much time away from her kits.

  She gazed toward the forest, impatience fizzing beneath her pelt. Where are you? It wasn’t like Acorn Fur to be late. She was usually pacing the hillside, waiting, by the time Moth Flight arrived.

  Unease jabbed her belly.

  Perhaps Acorn Fur couldn’t come.

  Her fur tingled with worry. Had Clear Sky found out about their meetings?

  He can’t stop her from learning! She headed downslope as the rain thickened, heading for the SkyClan border. Does he think his wishes are more important than StarClan’s? Anger pulsed through her paws as she crossed the wet grass.

  The pungent scent of SkyClan markers washed her muzzle as she neared the ferns that edged the trees. She pushed through the dripping fronds. Padding into the shelter of the woods, she glanced around, wondering where SkyClan’s camp lay. She had to know where Acorn Fur was. If Clear Sky was stopping her, someone needed to explain to the rabbit-brained leader how important it was for his medicine cat to learn everything she could.

  Sniffing the ground, she smelled paw prints and began to follow them. They must eventually lead to the camp. She trailed around a bramble and between two fallen trees. Ducking beneath a branch, she smelled more paw prints. She must be getting close. She could see a glade ahead where rain dripped through the canopy.

  I hope he hasn’t hurt her. She suddenly remembered her mother’s warning. He’s capable of more cruelty than you can imagine. Moth Flight pushed the words away. She wasn’t going to be bullied. She had StarClan on her side.

  As she slid through a clump of ferns, a hiss made her freeze.

  Tortoiseshell fur flashed at the corne
r of her vision. Something hard slammed into her flank and knocked her, sprawling, to the ground.

  Panic flared beneath Moth Flight’s pelt as she scrambled to her paws. The scent of a SkyClan she-cat filled the air. Jerking around, she saw Sparrow Fur glaring at her, hackles raised.

  “What are you doing on SkyClan land?” The tortoiseshell’s eyes flashed with suspicion.

  “I’m Moth Flight!” she growled.

  “I know who you are,” the tortoiseshell returned.

  “Then you know that I’m a medicine cat! I can walk where I please.”

  “No one walks in this forest without Clear Sky’s permission!” Sparrow Fur growled.

  “Since when?”

  “Since he said so!”

  Frustration surged in Moth Flight’s belly. “I’ve come to find Acorn Fur.” Perhaps if she explained that she was worried about her Clanmate, Sparrow Fur would understand.

  “Acorn Fur is in camp, doing what she’s supposed to do.”

  “Which is?” she demanded.

  “Taking care of her Clanmates!”

  “But I haven’t finished training her!”

  Sparrow Fur’s tail swished ominously. “She’s had all the training she’s going to get.”

  Moth Flight didn’t understand. “Don’t you want her to be the best medicine cat she can be?” Just because Clear Sky was a rabbit-brain, didn’t mean his whole Clan had to act dumb!

  “What I want doesn’t matter,” Sparrow Fur snarled. “Clear Sky is my leader. I follow his orders. And his orders are that no cat should cross our border. Especially not a WindClan cat.”

  Fury scorched Moth Flight’s belly. “I’m not here to hunt! StarClan ordered me to train Acorn Fur and that’s what I’m going to do.” She headed past Sparrow Fur.

  The SkyClan she-cat dodged ahead of her.

  She glared at the tortoiseshell angrily. “Get out of my way! I have to—” She stopped, surprised to see worry clouding Sparrow Fur’s gaze.

  “You have to leave!” Lowering her voice, Sparrow Fur glanced nervously over her shoulder.

  “Why?”

  “Clear Sky will rip you to shreds if you reach the camp,” she warned. “And then he’ll rip me to shreds for letting you.”