Moth Flight’s Vision

One day her Clan might depend on it. And Rocky needed it now. She lifted her chin. Wind Runner wasn’t going to stop her from being the best medicine cat she could be. “We won’t tell Wind Runner where we’re going. Let’s hurry.” She glanced at Rocky, who was worryingly still, his flanks hardly moving.

Micah followed her gaze, then nodded. “Come on.” He hared out of the den. Moth Flight raced after him. They crossed the clearing in a few bounds.

“Where are you going?” Dust Muzzle’s mew echoed after them as they headed through the entrance.

“We won’t be long!” Moth Flight called back evasively.

They raced down the moorside, Moth Flight taking the lead and burning trails through the heather. She reached the SkyClan border, her chest on fire. “Which way?”

Micah pelted past her. “Follow me.”

Moth Flight chased him through the wall of ferns and around a clump of brambles. He cleared a rotting log in one bound. She scrambled over it and kept running, digging in her paws to catch up as he disappeared over a rise. She followed, her heart lurching as the ground opened into a ditch. Her forepaws slipped over the edge. She pushed hard with her hind legs and soared over the gap. Landing heavily, she sent leaves swirling behind her. Micah was still running and she chased after him, determined not to lose sight. He swerved past an ancient oak and followed a gully that cut into a glade. The trees thinned and sunlight streamed in. Bluebells misted the ground, turning the forest floor purple.

“This is it!” Micah slowed and circled a tall tree at the bottom of the glade. “The bark at the base is too old,” he meowed. “I’ll have to climb to the top where there are tender stems.”

Moth Flight scrambled to a halt, her heart pounding. “It’s so tall! Can you climb trees?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never tried.” Micah peered up through the leafy branches. “It can’t be harder than the barn ladder.”

“It’s a lot higher.” Anxiety wormed beneath Moth Flight’s pelt. She’d never climbed a tree. On the moor, prey lived among the gorse and heather.

“Once I get to the first branch, I’ll be okay.” Micah reached up with his forepaws and hooked his claws into the bark. Shards flaked away and showered around him.

“I’m coming with you.” Moth Flight was not letting him try this alone.

“No. I need to concentrate. If you climb up, I’ll be distracted because I’ll be worrying about you.” Micah looked at her. “You stay here and I’ll drop the bark down to you.”

Moth Flight blinked at him uncertainly. “Are you sure we can’t just scrape the bark away here?” She nodded toward the peeling wood.

“It’s as dry as a bone.” He leaped up, digging his hind claws in and scooting toward a branch jutting a few tail-lengths above his head.

“Be careful!” Moth Flight called, her breath quickening as she watched him scramble higher.

Grunting, he hauled himself onto the lowest branch. “This is easy!” he called down.

Moth Flight screwed up her eyes as crumbs of bark drifted down like snowflakes. “Don’t forget you’re not a squirrel!”

“I won’t.” Micah craned his neck, peering up toward the next branch. Reaching up, he clung to the trunk and hauled himself higher.

Moth Flight paced the bottom of the tree. Be careful!

Ferns swished behind her. She glanced over her shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Clear Sky stalked into the glade, his broad shoulders rippling. An angry snarl curled his lip.

“We need medicine for Rocky,” Moth Flight explained.

“He’s really sick.”

“Don’t you have herbs on the moor?” Clear Sky stopped a whisker from her nose.

She backed away, shocked by the menace in his mew.

“We need sap from this tree.” She glanced toward Micah.

Leaves shivered around him, high among the branches.

Clear Sky jerked his muzzle up. “Is that my medicine cat?”

Yellow fur showed between the leaves as Micah climbed higher.

“He’s helping me,” Moth Flight explained.

“Get off my land,” Clear Sky hissed at her.

Moth Flight stiffened. “I’m not hunting!”

“WindClan seem to think that borders only work one way!”

“That’s not true.” Moth Flight’s hackles rose. “It’s SkyClan who’s been stealing moor prey!”

Clear Sky’s blue gaze turned to ice. His pelt lifted along his spine.

Moth Flight froze, wishing she hadn’t spoken. She backed away feeling suddenly vulnerable. “I’m just a medicine cat,” she mewed. “I only want to get sap to cure Rocky! As soon as Micah finds some bark, I’ll take it and leave.”

“You’re not taking anything from SkyClan territory,” Clear Sky snarled.

“But Rocky might die without it!”

“That’s not my problem!”

Moth Flight couldn’t believe her ears. How could any cat be so cruel?

“Moth Flight?” Micah’s mew sounded from high among the branches. “Are you okay?”

Clear Sky glanced upward. “She will be. If she goes home.”

Leaves shivered on a branch and Micah stuck out his head.

“Clear Sky? What are you doing here?”

“It’s my territory!” Clear Sky yowled. “Or had you forgotten?”

Micah blinked at him. “Of course not, but we need to get some sap for R—”

Clear Sky cut him off. “Stop playing the hero for your little