Moth Flight’s Vision

Cloud Spots headed toward the black she-cat. Acorn Fur weaved between Blossom and Swift Minnow, checking for wounds. Dappled Pelt padded to where Nettle swayed beside the birch tree. Within moments, the three medicine cats were treating the injured—crouching to chew poultices, wrapping bloody paws in cobweb, lapping sap into scratches.

Fur brushed Moth Flight’s flank. Gorse Fur was standing beside her, a bundle of oak shoots between his jaws. He dropped them and crouched beside Wind Runner. “Moth Flight will have you well in no time,” he promised softly.

Pebble Heart jumped down the slope and laid a wad of lush leaves at Moth Flight’s paws. “I found comfrey.” He glanced at Wind Runner. “You’re going to need something to bite on.” He picked the thickest shoot from the pile Gorse Fur had dropped and slid it between her jaws.

Unable to speak, she blinked at him questioningly.

“We have to straighten the bone before we can wrap it.” He reached toward a clump of straggly grass and tugged out a few tough strands, then he nodded to Moth Flight. “Put your paws at the top of her leg and, when I give the signal, press down.”

Moth Flight obeyed, resting her pads on Wind Runner’s fur.

Heat pulsed from her injured leg.

Pebble Heart gripped Wind Runner’s hind paw between his jaws. Flicking his gaze toward Moth Flight, he gave a tiny nod.

Then he tugged.

As Moth Flight pressed down, she felt the bone move and heard the stick crunch between her mother’s jaws. An agonized groan sounded deep in Wind Runner’s throat.

Stiffening, Moth Flight jerked around and lapped her mother’s cheek fiercely. “It’s over now,” she soothed, suddenly feeling more like a mother than a kit.

Gorse Fur was staring at her, his eyes round with horror.

“You hurt her!”

“We had to.” Pebble Heart let go of Wind Runner’s leg and ran his paw over the break. He blinked at Moth Flight. “What do you think?”

Moth Flight was trembling. She reached out a paw and ran it nervously over her mother’s fur. The jagged lump had gone.

“You’ve straightened it!” Relief rushed over her. She purred at Gorse Fur. “Hopefully, it can mend properly now.”

“We have to wrap it so it can heal.” Pebble Flight hooked up two of the shoots and laid them either side of Wind Runner’s leg. He laid several more above and below. Then he wrapped comfrey thickly around them. Moth Flight realized what he was doing and grabbed one of the tough stems of grass. Threading it under her mother’s leg, she wound it around the comfrey and the shoots, like bundling soaked nettles. Before long, Wind Runner’s leg was tightly encased in comfrey, held straight by the shoots.

Moth Flight blinked at Wind Runner. “How does it feel?”

Wind Runner stared back at her, pain showing in her eyes.

“Not bad,” she lied.

“I’ve got poppy seeds in my den,” Moth Flight told her.

“They’ll help with the pain.” She suddenly remembered her kits.

Who was looking after them? Were they okay? They’d be frightened—wondering where she was. Her heart lurched. She’d been so caught up with the battle and the wounded, she hadn’t even thought about them.

Guilt washed over her.

“Moth Flight?” Pebble Heart was staring at her, frowning.

Had he seen her gaze darken? “What’s the matter?”

“My kits!” she whispered urgently. “I don’t know who’s looking after them.”

Pebble Heart blinked sympathetically. “We can manage here.” He nodded toward Dappled Pelt, Cloud Spots, and Acorn

Fur, who were still tending to injured cats. “Go home to your kits. I won’t leave Wind Runner’s side until she’s safely back in camp.”

Moth Flight stared at him, her emotions whirling. Could she really abandon her mother and her Clanmates?

“Go!” Pebble Heart urged. “While your thoughts are with your kits, you’ll be of little use here.”

She backed away, a chill sweeping her. Was that true?

She shook out her fur. Who cares? Right now, Honey Pelt, Spider Paw, Bubbling Stream, and Blue Whisker might be wailing for her.

Turning away, she hared out of the SkyClan camp and headed for the moor.

Chapter 32

Moth Flight stirred in her sleep, dreaming. She blinked open her eyes into a vision of the moorside. A flame-pelted tom stood below a starless sky. Moth Flight recognized him at once. She’d dreamed of his meeting with StarClan while she’d been with ShadowClan. A brown-and-white tabby she-cat lay on the wind-rippled grass beside him, so still that Moth Flight wondered if she was dead. A third cat twitched her ears, scanning the mists that swirled around them.

Moth Flight padded closer. She knew that the other cats could not see or hear her. I am here to watch. The brown-and-white tabby sneezed suddenly and scrabbled to her paws. She glanced at the flame-pelted tom, as though looking for reassurance. He rested his tail-tip on her shoulder and, as he did so, a gray-and-white tom padded from the mist. Droplets sparkled on his pelt like stars. Is this a spirit-cat?