Moth Flight’s Vision

Black Ear hopped over her tail and padded a few steps toward the grass Red Claw had flattened. His small nose was twitching with curiosity. “Are SkyClan cats bad?”

Moth Flight felt a prickle of irritation. “Of course not.

They’re just like you and me.” She didn’t understand why there had to be lines scratched between the Clans. Borders just seemed to make everyone suspicious of each other. What if there was a harsh leafbare or a dry greenleaf? Would one Clan let another starve or go thirsty rather than share their hunting lands?

Willow Tail’s pelt was still bristling. “We should follow him to make sure he leaves. You can’t trust SkyClan cats.”

Moth Flight glanced crossly at Willow Tail. “Don’t say that in front of the kits!” There was enough gossip in camp about ThunderClan cats being reckless, ShadowClan cats being unfriendly, and RiverClan cats being odd. Making up differences between the Clans was just planting trouble for the future. A new thought struck her, making her pelt prick warily. I wonder what the other Clans say about us?

“We should get the kits back to Slate,” Spotted Fur meowed.

Moth Flight was suddenly aware that White Tail was shivering against her belly. “He’s right. They’re getting cold.”

“You didn’t seem worried about that while you were digging out your precious weed.” Willow Tail stared fiercely at the heather where Red Claw had disappeared. “What if he stays on our land?”

“Who cares?” Moth Flight grasped White Tail’s scruff and began to pad toward camp, annoyed at the older she-cat. It’s not a weed, it’s a plant! And she made me leave it behind for the sake of the kits. Now she wants to go chasing after a SkyClan cat.

“I’m sure he’ll leave,” Spotted Fur assured Willow Tail, gathering her in with his tail. “Even SkyClan cats know better than to tangle with Wind Runner. Now let’s get the kits home.”

Willow Tail watched the heather for a few moments more, then sighed and began walking back toward camp. “All right.”

Soon, Moth Flight could see the dip where their camp nestled into the hillside and, after a few more paw steps, its heather walls showed against the windswept grass. They were nearly home.

Spotted Fur fell in beside her, Black Ear dangling from his jaws.

She frowned, wondering why he’d been so tough on Red Claw, then she heard a yowl.

Slate was bounding from the camp, Wind Runner at her heels.

“Are they okay? Are they safe?” Slate skidded to a halt, her eyes round with fear.

Spotted Fur placed Black Ear at her paws. “They’re a bit cold and hungry, but no harm done.”

Moth Flight put White Tail gently down. The kit ran at once to his mother and nuzzled into her soft gray flank.

Silver Stripe wailed, struggling in Willow Tail’s jaws. “I fell down a rabbit hole!” Willow Tail dropped her and she raced toward Slate. “Moth Flight had to climb down and push me out.”

“She was in there for ages!” White Tail told Slate.

“We thought a badger was going to eat her!” Black Ear added.

Slate pulled her kits to her belly, her eyes glistening even brighter with worry.

Spotted Fur brushed Moth Flight’s flank with his tail. “It was just a rabbit hole,” he told Slate. “Too small for badgers.

We had to dig it open before Moth Flight could squeeze in and rescue her.”

Moth Flight felt a wave of gratitude toward her friend.

Spotted Fur always defends me. But then she caught Wind Runner’s eye and her belly tightened.

Her mother was glaring at her. “You were asked to watch them, Moth Flight.”

Moth Flight stared at her paws, shame worming beneath her pelt. “I’m sorry.”

Slate began lapping her kits furiously. “It was my fault,” she murmured between licks. “I was in a hurry to lie down. I should have asked someone more reliable to keep an eye on them, like Fern Leaf, but she was hunting.”

Her words raked Moth Flight like claws. She glanced nervously at her mother. Wind Runner’s eyes were burning with rage.

The WindClan leader growled. “Moth Flight is old enough to know better. Her Clanmates should be able to rely on her.”

Moth Flight shifted her paws. “It won’t happen again,” she mumbled.

“I wish I could believe you,” Wind Runner hissed. “How does it look to the Clan if my own kit can’t be trusted?”

Moth Flight flinched. Why did her mother have to be the Clan leader? Everything I do must be an example to the Clan!

And if she got anything wrong, she was letting the whole Clan down. Resentment burned in her belly as she watched Slate fussing over her kits. I bet she doesn’t expect them to be perfect all the time!

Gray fur flashed at the camp entrance. Her father, Gorse Fur, was hurrying toward them, Dust Muzzle and Fern Leaf at his heels. “You found them!” He stared proudly at Moth Flight.

“She lost them!” Wind Runner snapped.