Moth Flight’s Vision

His hind paw was twisted and bloody, as though it had been yanked from a thorn bush. His eyes were closed, flickering slightly. His muzzle was clumped with dried blood.

She smelled the sharp tang of horsetail and marigold rising from Tiny Branch’s wound. Dried green pulp showed on his bloody fur. Acorn Fur had clearly been trying to treat him for some time. Moth Flight glanced at Clear Sky. “Where’s Acorn

Fur?”

“She went to find cobwebs.” Clear Sky’s mew was tight.

Moth Flight pictured the SkyClan medicine cat struggling alone to help Tiny Branch. Sympathy pricked at her heart. She wasn’t trained to deal with injuries as bad as this. She must be terrified. “She should have sent for help sooner.”

Clear Sky’s tail twitched. “SkyClan doesn’t ask for help unless there’s no choice.”

Did you stop her? Moth Flight angrily swallowed back the words. Picking a fight with Clear Sky wouldn’t help Tiny

Branch.

Star Flower didn’t wrench her gaze from her kit. “Will he be okay?”

Moth Flight didn’t answer. “Where’s her herb store?”

Clear Sky stared at her blankly. “I don’t think she has one.”

Red Claw stepped forward. “She’s been gathering herbs for a while,” he told his leader.

Moth Flight turned to the dark red tom. “Where are they?”

Red Claw began to lead the way to a short steep slope where the roots of an oak snaked into the earth.

As Moth Flight straightened to follow, she felt Dappled Pelt’s nose on her shoulder.

“I’ll go with him.”

“Bring every herb she’s got,” Moth Flight told her. She glanced at Pebble Heart. “What can we do?” She wasn’t sure which wound to treat first.

Pebble Heart crouched beside Tiny Branch while Cloud

Spots shooed the Clan backward, making room on the kit’s other side.

Pebble Heart pressed his paws on the brightest wound, where blood was still welling. “We need to stop this bleeding first. It’s the worst injury.”

Moth Flight slipped her paws under his. “I’ll press the blood back while you check the rest of him.” Warmth oozed under her pads. Fear flashed beneath her pelt, but she ignored it.

Cloud Spots sniffed Tiny Branch’s mangled hind paw. “This needs wet nettles to take down the swelling.”

Moth Flight looked toward the slope, relieved to see Dappled Pelt hurrying back, a wad of leaves in her jaws.

“Are there any nettles in there?” Moth Flight asked as Dappled Pelt dropped the herbs beside her.

“No.” Dapped Pelt began to sort through the pile. “It’s mainly chervil and borage.”

Moth Flight stiffened, frustration flaring through her. If only she’d been allowed to finish training Acorn Fur! Her store would be fully stocked. She avoided Clear Sky’s gaze, swallowing back anger. Tiny Branch is his kit. This wasn’t the time to argue about borders.

“There’s some thyme here.” Dappled Pelt mewed hopefully.

Moth Flight frowned at the unconscious kit. “He can’t chew anything.”

“We could put a sprig under his tongue,” Pebble Heart suggested.

“That’s better than nothing.” Moth Flight pressed harder on the wound as Pebble Heart slipped a claw between Tiny

Branch’s lips and very gently levered his jaws open.

Alarm sparked in her belly. The kit’s breath was so weak she could hardly feel his flank move. He was as limp as dead prey.

She watched, her mouth dry, as Pebble Heart slid a thyme stalk beneath the kit’s tongue.

“You’re here!” Acorn Fur burst into camp. Moth Flight saw relief glistening in the SkyClan medicine cat’s gaze. Cobwebs swathed her forepaws and she hurried over and peeled them off.

Pebble Heart took them from her and began stuffing shreds into the bloodiest wound. He nodded to Acorn Fur. “Put your paws here.”

As she pressed the cobwebs deep into the bloody flesh, Pebble Heart ripped the remaining wad into two and gave one half to Cloud Spots. Between them, they wrapped every graze and bite they could see.

Moth Flight leaned down and listened to Tiny Branch’s chest. There was no bubbling inside, but his heart was fluttering like a trapped bird, weak with exhaustion. Her belly tightened.

She glanced at Star Flower.

The golden tabby she-cat must have seen the despair in her gaze. She recoiled, pressing her muzzle into Clear Sky’s shoulder.

Clear Sky’s dark gaze swept the medicine cats, then fixed on Moth Flight. “He’ll live, won’t he?”

Tiny Branch suddenly whimpered. His eyes flickered open for a moment. Then he jerked, and fell still.

Clear Sky stared at him, his mouth open.

Moth Flight pressed her ear to Tiny Branch’s chest once again.

Nothing.

Her thoughts raced to her own kits. Were they safely tucked up with Rocky? What if a fox had gotten into the camp? What if one of them had wandered alone onto the moor? Panic tugged at her belly. She needed to see them. She had to know they were okay. But first she had to tell Clear Sky his son was dead.

She looked at the SkyClan leader, pity twisting her heart.

“I’m so sorry.”

His eyes clouded. Pain flared in their blue depths. Moth