Moth Flight’s Vision

“Moth Flight!” Gorse Fur turned. “Are you two back already?” His mew was sharp with surprise.

Wind Runner was staring at the shrew. “Is that all you caught?”

“That’s all there was,” Dust Muzzle dipped his head.

Wind Runner snorted. “I suppose Moth Flight tripped over her tail and scared the other prey away.”

Moth Flight couldn’t meet her mother’s gaze. She’d guessed right away that it was her fault, without even noticing the scratch on her nose. Moth Flight clenched her teeth, anger and hurt pulsing through her. I can be just as good as any other Clan cat! Determined to impress her mother, she scanned the moortop desperately for something she could catch. With a rush of relief she spotted a lapwing, stalking through the rippling grass beyond the rise. She dropped into a crouch and padded toward it.

Just watch me!

The lapwing was stabbing its beak into the earth, twitching as it caught something and began to tug.

Moth Flight’s breathing quickened as she willed the bird’s prey to resist and keep the lapwing distracted. Just for a few moments! She was a fox-length away now, her tail swishing over the grass with excitement.

The lapwing froze, its eye catching sight of her and sparking with panic.

Moth Flight leaped, stretching out her paws wildly as the lapwing flapped into the air. She tried to reach up, twisting. Her claw grazed a talon as the wind from its wings blasted her face and she landed with a whump on her side.

Embarrassed, she scrambled to her paws. I nearly had it!

Disappointment swamped her as she looked around to see Wind Runner shaking her head sadly.

Gorse Fur hurried toward her. “Great try, Moth Flight.”

Dust Muzzle followed close at his father’s paws. “Lapwings are hard to catch,” he sympathized.

Gorse Fur stopped beside her. “Your tail gave you away,” he told her gently. “No matter how excited you feel, you must keep it still and lift it just above the ground so you can move silently.

We might be smarter than prey, but prey knows what to listen for and, if it hears anything unusual, instinct will send it fleeing in the blink of an eye.”

Moth Flight hung her head. “I let it get away.”

“Don’t worry,” Gorse Fur told her cheerfully. “You’ve learned something. That’s what’s important. You’ll be catching lapwings before long.”

“Dust Muzzle caught one a few days ago,” Moth Flight mumbled miserably.

“Dust Muzzle’s had more practice than you,” Gorse Fur reassured her.

I’m so sorry. Moth Flight knew that Gorse Fur must feel as disappointed in her as Wind Runner, despite his kind words. She shook out her fur and looked at him as brightly as she could manage. “I’ll get better, I promise.”

He purred. “Of course you will.”

She glanced toward Wind Runner, but her mother was crouching beside a burrow entrance, her ears pricked and her gaze fixed on the dark opening.

Gorse Fur followed her gaze. “I’d better go and help,” he meowed. “Why don’t you join me?” He glanced from Moth

Flight to Dust Muzzle, but Dust Muzzle’s attention was fixed on the grassy slope. His ears were pricked and he opened his mouth as though tasting for prey.

“I’ll be back after I’ve caught that vole,” he whispered, heading downslope. He crossed the grass, his paw steps silent, his tail still.

Gorse Fur nudged Moth Flight toward the rabbit burrows.

“If you see a rabbit running, do you remember what to do?”

Moth Flight frowned. “Chase it?” she offered hopefully.

Gorse Fur’s ear twitched. “Head where it’s looking and cut off its escape route. Outrunning a rabbit is hard. Outthinking it is easy.”

He quickened his pace, breaking into a trot. Moth Flight followed slowly, sighing as her father caught up with Wind Runner. The Clan leader beckoned her mate on with a flick of her muzzle and he raced away to another hole farther along the rise.

Moth Flight wound her way around the burrows dotting the rise. She wanted to keep her distance from Wind Runner. If her mother managed to flush out a young rabbit, she didn’t want to scare it down another hole.

The sun was touching Highstones, turning the peaks orange.

Moth Flight shivered as the evening chill reached through her fur. She remembered her dream. It had been so vivid it was hard to believe that she hadn’t actually been there while the blue-gray cat died beside her friends. But she didn’t die! Moth Flight frowned. She came back to life… after she looked so lifeless.

She remembered the fear in the eyes of the flame-pelted tom and the dark, unreadable gaze of the tabby. She could almost believe that these cats were real, not just figments of her imagination. When the blue-gray cat had suddenly twitched after such stillness, none of the cats had seemed shocked—only relieved. It was as if they knew it would happen!

“Moth Flight!”