Moth Flight’s Vision

Pushing through a hedge, she found herself at the edge of a wide field. The grass here was short. Sheep grazed, eyes blank, clumped in small groups like clouds dotting a green sky. A few tail-lengths away, where the hedge gave way to fence, water pooled in muddy dips where monsters had left paw marks.

Ears pricked warily, Moth Flight padded toward the puddles and crouched beside the nearest one. She lapped the brown water, trying to ignore the bitter taste. She heard hooves pattering across the grass and looked up to see sheep moving toward her. Unsure of them, she backed away. They ambled aimlessly, their attention fixed on the grass, buffeting each other clumsily. Such dumb animals might trample her without even noticing. She headed around them, keeping a safe distance, her nose twitching at the warm, sour smell of them.

Suddenly movement flashed at the corner of her eye. A

small brown shape was darting through the grass.

Mouse!

Heart leaping, Moth Flight dropped into a crouch.

The mouse was scampering toward the hedge, its nose twitching nervously.

Prey will smell you before they see you, so keep the wind behind you. Moth Flight remembered one of Gorse Fur’s lessons and lifted her tail, letting the breeze stream through it.

She was in luck; the mouse was upwind. It would never smell her. All she needed to do was creep up on it without it hearing her.

Treading delicately, she pulled herself over the grass. She made sure that her tail didn’t brush against the grass, grateful for Gorse Fur’s training and surprised that she suddenly remembered so much of it. Why couldn’t she remember it when she was trying to impress Wind Runner?

The mouse was moving fast, its gaze fixed on the hedge. If she wanted to catch it before it found the safety of the shadows, she would have to run. Holding her breath, Moth Flight quickened her pace, trying to keep her paw steps as light as feathers falling. With any luck, the pattering of the sheep’s hooves a few tail-lengths away would disguise any noise she made.

The mouse kept running, but she was almost close enough to pounce. Her chest tightened with excitement. Keep your eyes on it, she reminded herself as she stiffened for her leap. She had to land on it the first time or she’d lose it.

Ready…

Green wings fluttered beside her. Moth Flight scrambled to a halt.

The moth!

Forgetting the mouse in a moment, she turned to stare at the moth. It was right in front of her, its great wings brilliant in the sunshine.

Reaching up with her forepaw, she tried to touch it. But it whisked away and began heading across the field.

Delight surged through Moth Flight’s pelt. She chased the moth, a purr rumbling in her throat. It’s come to show me the way!

It flitted past a group of sheep. Moth Flight veered around them. The moth lifted higher into the air. No! Don’t leave me!

Fear flashed through her. What if it climbed so high she lost sight of it? She ran faster, desperation pricking in her paws.

I’m not losing you this time!

A bark cut through the air. Moth Flight’s pelt bushed.

Dog!

Dragging her gaze from the moth, she glanced around.

The bark sounded again, louder this time. Then the dog burst into excited yapping. Fear shrilled through Moth Flight.

It’s seen me!

She twisted, scanning the field desperately, her senses confused by the earthy meadow scents.

The sheep began to run, panic showing in their eyes. They closed into a flock, and headed for Moth Flight.

Still she couldn’t see the dog.

But its jubilant barking was getting closer every moment.

Suddenly the flock opened. The terrified sheep scattered as a black-and-white shape surged among them. They shied away, bleating with fear, as it raced toward Moth Flight.

She froze for a moment, horror gripping her, then spun and pelted for the edge of the field.

The hedge there was thick. If she could squeeze through it, the dog might not be able to follow.

Blood roared in her ears as she pushed hard against the earth.

But the dog’s paws were thrumming closer.

I can’t outrun it! Unaware of everything but terror, Moth Flight ran onward. Teeth nipped her tail tip. Too scared to look back, she felt her fur spike. The dog’s hot breath billowed over her haunches. Its yelping dropped to a vicious growl.

If it got a grip on her hind legs, she’d be lost.

I must face it. The only way to escape was to wound it first.

Her paws slithering on the grass, she turned and reared. With a yowl, she lashed out with her forepaws.

Yellow fur flashed between her and the dog.

Moth Flight froze in surprise, drawing back her paws as a cat pelted past.

Stumbling, her heart in her throat, she watched as the dog swerved and began to chase the yellow tom across the field.

Where did he come from?

Moth Flight stood and watched, numb with shock.