Moth Flight’s Vision

“Wind Runner thought you’d never convince him.” Moth

Flight felt a glimmer of satisfaction that Micah had proved her mother wrong.

“I think Clear Sky likes cats who stand up to him,” Micah told her. “And it helped that Star Flower was there. Since I helped Tiny Branch, she wants me to learn as much as I can—in case Dew Petal or Flower Foot gets sick.”

“How’s Tiny Branch’s cough?”

“It seems to get better one day and worse the next,” Micah murmured thoughtfully. “I wonder if there’s something in the forest that aggravates it.”

“Silver Stripe always sneezes when she’s been playing near heather flowers,” Moth Flight commented. “Maybe you could follow Tiny Branch for a day and see where he plays.”

“I wish I had time for that,” Micah meowed. “Clear Sky keeps me busy treating flea bites and gathering herbs.”

“But you have Acorn Fur to help you.” Moth Flight ignored the jealousy pricking beneath her fur. “Couldn’t she take your duties for a day?”

“Clear Sky insists she never leave my side when we’re on SkyClan territory.”

Moth Flight blinked. “Never?”

Before Micah could answer, the reeds ahead shivered and a black she-cat slid out and blocked the path—the same one they’d seen on the shore downstream. She eyed Micah and Moth Flight suspiciously. “What are you two doing here?”

“Hi!” Micah greeted her cheerfully. “Didn’t Dappled Pelt warn you? She invited us to come and learn what she knows about healing.”

“Night!” A mew sounded farther along the trail. Dawn Mist appeared from among the rushes. Her orange-and-white pelt was wet, slicked against her slender frame. “Dappled Pelt said that if it’s Micah and Moth Flight, you’re to escort them to her den.”

Night narrowed her eyes. “I still think it’s a bad idea to let other Clan cats into our camp.”

“River Ripple says it’s okay,” Dawn Mist argued. “And they’re only medicine cats. What’s the worst they can do? Cure you?”

Night snorted and turned her tail on them. “Follow me,” she huffed.

Moth Flight padded beside Micah, following the she-cat along the winding path.

Dawn Mist fell in beside her Clanmate and glanced over her shoulder. “I wish I could visit the other Clans,” she mewed. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to live on the moor or in the forest.”

Moth Flight’s paws slithered on the muddy earth. “It’s dry,” she muttered.

As Dawn Mist purred with amusement, the reeds opened up and Moth Flight saw a clearing ahead. Fish scent washed her muzzle as two kits bounded across the sandy soil and bundled into Dawn Mist.

“Dawn Mist!” The gray-and-white she-kit bounced around the orange queen. “Pine Needle ate more of the trout than me!

It’s not fair.”

The black tom-kit dug his paws into the earth. “I did not!

She’s just being greedy!”

“Poor Drizzle.” Dawn Mist licked the gray she-kit’s head.

“I’ll catch another fish soon,” she promised.

“Can we have one each?” Pine Needle asked.

Drizzle blinked eagerly. “I want the biggest one!”

“You two are greedier than foxes,” Dawn Mist purred. She nosed the kits away. “Go and play. I’m helping Night show our guests to Dappled Pelt’s den.”

Drizzle’s eyes opened wide as she spotted Moth Flight and Micah. “What are they doing here?”

“Invasion!” Pine Needle fluffed out his fur. “Should I warn

River Ripple?”

A deep purr rumbled at the side of the clearing. “There’s no need to warn me. I was expecting them.”

Moth Flight jerked her nose around and saw the RiverClan leader sitting in the shade of the reed wall.

He stood and crossed the camp, dipping his head as he neared. “I’m glad you’re here. Dappled Pelt’s in her den.” He pointed his muzzle to the foot of a long-dead tree. Its roots snaked into the earth, forming a cave beneath the stump, where countless moons of wind and water had hollowed out the earth.

Night flashed Moth Flight a look. “I hope you can hunt for yourselves,” she growled. “I’m not feeding WindClan or SkyClan cats.”

River Ripple blinked calmly at his Clanmate. “It doesn’t matter what Clan they’re from; their hunger is no different from yours.”

Night snorted and stalked away.

Dawn Mist whisked her tail. “Don’t worry about her,” she whispered to Moth Flight. “She enjoys being bad-tempered.”

Drizzle pricked her ears. “Yesterday she said that I was as dumb as a water vole. But I’m not.”

“Of course you’re not!” Pine Needle’s whiskers twitched mischievously. “You’re dumber.”

“Hey!” Fluffing her fur out indignantly, Drizzle leaped at her brother. Pine Needle ducked out of the way and hared across the camp.

“I’ll get you for that!” Drizzle hurtled after him.

“When they’re not eating, they’re fighting.” Dawn Mist rolled her eyes. “I’d better fetch them more prey.” She headed toward a gap in the reeds where the river lapped the edge of the clearing. Without pausing, she slid into the river and disappeared beneath the surface.

Moth Flight glanced at Micah. The RiverClan cats seemed more like otters than cats. Micah was gazing around the camp.