Moth Flight’s Vision

In the moon since she’d returned to the WindClan camp, Moth Flight had shared with him all she’d learned from the other medicine cats. When the kits came, she guessed that there would be times when she’d be too busy to tend to her Clan and she wanted him to be prepared to take her place. And so, she had spent nearly every day with him, scouring the moor for herbs, and teaching him their names as they gathered them for her store.

She glanced at her nest now, wondering when the kits would come. She had woven extra heather to make it larger, and lined it thickly with moss. She shifted as a twinge in her belly made her wince.

Reed Tail stiffened. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Moth Flight told him. “The kits are just fidgety today.”

As she spoke, fur brushed the gorse entrance.

Rocky padded into the den, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. “My chest is feeling a bit tight.” He looked at her hopefully. “Can you spare some catmint?”

Moth Flight heaved herself to her paws and crossed the den.

She pressed her ear against his flank and listened for bubbling inside his chest. He was breathing clearly. She looked at him sternly. “You’re as fit as a flea. I can’t waste catmint on healthy cats. I’d have to travel to Twolegplace to fetch more.”

“I could fetch some for you,” Rocky offered. “I know Twolegplace well. I used to live there, remember?”

“That’s a kind offer.” She wouldn’t put it past the old tom to travel to Twolegplace in search of catmint. “But let younger cats fetch the herbs. Your paws are too stiff to climb the wooden walls.”

Rocky’s eyes brightened. “Does catmint help stiff paws?”

Moth Flight’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “No, but I can give you some comfrey. Reed Tail and I picked some fresh leaves this morning.”

Rocky wrinkled his nose. “No, thanks. The stiffness doesn’t bother me that much and I—”

Moth Flight didn’t hear the rest of his words. Pain pulsed through her as a spasm gripped her belly. She gasped, swaying.

“Are the kits coming?” Reed Tail raced to her side.

“I think so.” She curled her claws into the ground, bracing herself against the pain. “Send someone to fetch Pebble Heart,” she puffed. “He knows what to do.”

Reed Tail hared from the den and left Rocky staring at her nervously.

“Do you want to lie down in your nest?” he asked hesitantly.

“No!” Moth Flight glared at him as another spasm crushed her belly. She began to pace, a growl rolling deep in her throat.

Focus on your breathing. She remembered the advice she’d given Juniper Branch and tried to concentrate on each breath.

What if she wasn’t ready? What if the kits got stuck? What if they died like Emberkit? Her thoughts began to whirl. She stopped and stared at Rocky, panic sparking through her pelt.

Rocky blinked at her. “I’ll get Wind Runner.” He ducked out of the den.

Moth Flight moaned, shocked by the pain gripping her belly.

She began pacing again, not sure what to do with herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of sitting still. Moving distracted her.

But she felt weak with the pain. She lay down as another spasm shuddered through her body. Then she scrambled to her paws, frightened at feeling so helpless.

“Moth Flight!” Wind Runner’s mew sounded at the den entrance. Her mother hurried into the den and pressed her muzzle to Moth Flight’s cheek. “Don’t be scared,” she murmured. “Everything’s going to be okay. Dust Muzzle’s on his way to fetch Pebble Heart. And Slate will be here in a moment. We’re going to look after you until Pebble Heart arrives.”

Moth Flight leaned against her mother, relief swamping her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.

“Just keep pacing until you need to lie down.” Wind Runner drew away and looked into Moth Flight’s eyes. “You’re not the first cat to have kits. You will be fine.”

“But it hurts!” Moth Flight was startled by the intensity of the pain.

Wind Runner’s eyes glistened with sympathy. “You won’t remember it afterward, I promise.”

“That doesn’t help me now!” Moth Flight snapped back.

Another spasm was coming. She closed her eyes as it swept over her. When it had passed, she gazed blearily at her mother.

“How long will it take?”

“Not long,” Wind Runner soothed. “Not long at all.”

Paw steps sounded at the den entrance and Slate hurried into the den. “How’s she doing?” she asked Wind Runner.

The Wind Clan leader shot her an anxious look. “The kits will be here before Pebble Heart,” she breathed.

Moth Flight stiffened as she heard her mother. “How do you know?”

Slate didn’t give Wind Runner time to answer. “Are the spasms that close together?” She turned to Moth Flight. “Lie down and let me feel your belly.”

Wincing as another spasm pulsed through her, Moth Flight lay down. She growled with pain, hardly feeling Slate’s paws on her belly.

Slate nodded briskly. “Your kits feel strong. I think they’re eager to come out and meet you.”

Pain scorched through Moth Flight. Stronger than before.

“Wind Runner!” She reached a paw toward her mother.

“It won’t be long now.” Wind Runner crouched beside her.