Moth Flight’s Vision

Could I eat a toad? Moth Flight frowned. She knew

RiverClan cats ate frogs. And ShadowClan boasted of eating lizards. At least it’ll be easy to catch. The toad hopped clumsily and landed with a thump on the side of a furrow, its hind legs flapping as it tried to find its feet. Moth Flight dropped into a hunting crouch and waited for it to jump again.

As it leaped, she lunged toward it, flinging out her forepaws and knocking it to the ground. It fell onto its back, showing a pale belly. Moth Flight screwed up her face and ducked to give a killing bite.

Its flesh was squidgy between her teeth and she shuddered as she crunched through its spine. As it twitched and fell limp, Moth Flight felt relieved. Its blood wasn’t as sweet as rabbit blood, but at least it didn’t taste like pond water.

Grasping her catch between her jaws, she carried it back to the hedge and squeezed into the shadows once more.

Hungry and cold, she began to eat, queasy as she tore at the toad’s flabby flank. Perhaps the legs are meatier. She gnawed at one, trying to ignore the muddy taste of the creature’s flesh.

Once she’d swallowed a few mouthfuls, her aching hunger eased, and she pushed the toad away. She imagined Wind Runner telling her not to be wasteful and that hungry bellies couldn’t be choosy. But Wind Runner wasn’t here. I can do what I like.

Her heart quickened. Am I really going to stay out here all night? She’d never slept away from her Clan. She was used to Dust Muzzle’s pelt pressed against hers and the sound of her Clanmates snoring. She suddenly realized how safe she’d always felt in camp.

Nervously, she peered from the hedge. The afternoon shadow had turned to night. The birds had stopped swooping.

The rooks had stilled and grown quiet. Moth Flight blinked up at the sky, where stars were beginning to show. She glanced toward the puddle, hoping to see their reflection sparkle like familiar friends in the muddy water.

Something moved in the field.

Moth Flight tensed. A shape was creeping along the hedge toward her. Its dark shadow rippled across the leaves, making them rustle as it passed.

A fox? The creature was skulking low to the ground. She opened her mouth to taste the air, but toad stench still soured her tongue. Belly tightening, she backed deeper into the hedge, hoping it wouldn’t see her. The creature had stopped and was sniffing the furrows. It paused and lifted its head. Moth Flight froze as its eyes flashed toward her. As it darted forward, she unsheathed her claws. Bracing her hind paws against a root, she prepared to defend herself.

Blood roared in her ears as the creature neared. She could hear its paws thrumming the earth. Its gaze darted this way and that, as though it was scanning the hedgerow.

It knows I’m here. Panic flared through her. Should I run away?

“Moth Flight!”

Moth Flight blinked in surprise. The creature was calling her name. And she recognized the mew!

“Spotted Fur?” Relief swamped her as she made out the familiar shape of his shoulders. His dappled, golden pelt was pale in the moonlight.

“I’ve found you!” He pulled up beside the hedge. “What are you doing in there? Are you okay? You smell scared.”

“I’m fine.” Moth Flight ducked out, limp with gratitude.

Heather scent pulsed from Spotted Fur’s pelt, smelling of their home. “I thought you were a fox!”

“What if I had been?” His eyes darkened with worry.

“You weren’t.” Moth Flight flicked her ear. She didn’t want to think about the answer.

“Dust Muzzle said you’d run off.”

“I did.”

“Well, you can’t stay out here all night just because you had an argument with Wind Runner. Let’s get you home.”

Moth Flight stared at him. Hadn’t Dust Muzzle explained?

“I’m not going home. I’m a danger to my Clan.”

Spotted Fur swished his tail. “Don’t be silly. You’re not a danger to any cat. Wind Runner’s upset, but it’ll all be forgotten by the morning.”

Moth Flight dug her claws into the earth. “She said the Clan would be better off without me, and she’s right. I’m not coming home.”

“You can’t stay here!” Spotted Fur stared at her. “It’s not safe. Besides, you must be starving.”

Moth Flight lifted her muzzle indignantly. “I caught a toad.”

She reached under the hedge and hauled it out.

Spotted Fur backed away, screwing up his muzzle. “You can’t eat that!”

“I already have,” Moth Flight told him proudly. “You see? I ate some of its leg. You think I can’t look after myself, but I can!”

Spotted Fur’s gaze softened. “Oh, Moth Flight. Of course you can.” He leaned forward to brush his cheek against hers but she flinched away.

“Don’t treat me like a kit!” She’d heard him talk to Black

Ear in the same tone earlier. “I’m not going home!”

Spotted Fur sat down. “Well, in that case, we’d better make a nest for the night.”