Moth Flight’s Vision

Moth Flight kept her gaze firmly ahead. “If you see prey as we travel, then catch it. But I’m not stopping.”

Evening was flooding the valley by the time they neared the steep hill that climbed to the moor. Micah had caught a shrew he’d spotted as they leaped a ditch. He’d killed it and they’d quickly shared it between them. It hadn’t stopped Moth Flight’s hunger. Her belly was rumbling as she caught sight of the Thunderpath, but she ignored it. She must concentrate on crossing. The wide strip of black stone cut across their trail and Moth Flight stopped at the edge. Her ear fur tingled, picking up the distant roar of a monster. Stale monster scent soured her tongue.

“Come on.” Micah hurried onto the flat stone. He stopped in the middle and turned as she hung back on the verge. She remembered the last time she was here. Fear wormed in her belly. She’d nearly got Gorse Fur killed. What if he’d died? I was so rabbit-brained! Had Wind Runner forgiven her?

You’re a danger to your Clan.

Moth Flight stared at the Thunderpath, her mouth suddenly dry. Spotted Fur had promised everything would be fine by the morning. That had been two days ago. Would it really be fine?

It has to be! I’m going to be a medicine cat. She forced herself to remember Morning Whisker’s words. If she’s strict, it’s because she worries about you, not because she thinks you’re useless. A spirit-cat couldn’t be wrong, could she?

“Moth Flight!” Micah’s yowl made her jump. She blinked, focusing on him. The roaring of the monster was louder. Its silhouette loomed on the horizon. Glaring eyes blazed through the twilight, blanching Micah’s yellow pelt.

I’m not risking another cat’s life!

Moth Flight pelted forward, whisking past Micah. “Come on!” She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see him hare after her as she made for the far side of the Thunderpath. She skidded to a halt, grass snagging between her claws. Micah slowed beside her. Foul wind tugged her fur as the monster roared past, honking like a goose.

“That was close!” Micah panted.

Moth Flight blinked at him anxiously. His pelt was bushed.

“I didn’t expect you to wait for me in the middle.”

“I didn’t expect you to stand daydreaming at the side!”

“Next time, don’t wait for me,” she told him. “I get distracted.”

Micah’s ears twitched uneasily.

“Are there any

Thunderpaths on the moor?”

“No.”

“Good.”

They climbed the slope in silence. As they reached the top, the setting sun warmed Moth Flight’s back for a moment before it slipped behind Highstones. She stopped and blinked through the dusky half-light. She could smell WindClan scents clinging to the gorse ahead. And the heather, fragrant with evening dew.

Her paws pricked with happiness. She was home!

She glanced at Micah. It was strange to have him beside her.

She was used to crossing this grass with her Clanmates. Was he nervous? He was entering unknown territory. “Are you ready?”

Micah gazed across the moor sloping away in front of them.

The forest stood beyond, no more than a shadow against the purpling sky now. He lifted his tail. “I’m ready.”

“Follow me.” Moth Flight headed toward the gorse, weaving between the thickly clustered bushes. Flower buds had begun to unfurl since she’d left and their sweet perfume filled her nose.

She quickened her pace as they reached an open stretch of grass.

“How long have the Clans lived here?” Micah trotted at her side.

“Not too long. We were one big group once,” Moth Flight explained. “But we split into Clans moons ago. Some preferred the pine forest, some preferred the oaks. Some wanted to live beside the river.” She glanced sideways at Micah. “They swim.”

“They swim?” Micah’s ears twitched. “Why?”

“Only the stars know.” Moth Flight had never understood any cat who enjoyed getting their fur wet. “Wind Runner and Gorse Fur have always been moor cats. So that’s where we live.” She pointed her muzzle toward the shadowy dip in the hillside that enclosed the camp.

Micah narrowed his eyes. Moth Flight wished she could tell what he was thinking.

She broke into a run. She didn’t want him to lose his nerve.

“Come on.” The full moon was rising into a clear sky. “They’ll be heading to Fourtrees soon. I have to speak to Wind Runner before she leaves.”

She smelled Spotted Fur’s scent as she ducked into a swath of heather. The golden-brown tom had followed this path through the bushes earlier and, by the smell of it, Dust Muzzle had been with him. Their scents rose from the earth. Wait till I tell them where I’ve been! Excitement buzzed beneath her pelt.