Moth Flight's Vision, Page 3

  Spotted Fur narrowed his eyes. “Again, I could go and ask her, if you’d like.” Red Claw scowled, and Spotted Fur went on. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. You chose to join SkyClan. There must be a sunny clearing somewhere in your own territory.”

  Red Claw’s tail flicked angrily. “Fine.” Turning away, he stalked toward the heather.

  Silver Stripe stared at Moth Flight. “Who was he?”

  “Just a SkyClan cat,” she said. She wasn’t entirely sure why things had gotten so tense, but she didn’t want the kits to worry.

  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.

  Dust Muzzle’s eyes rounded with sympathy as he caught sight of Moth Flight. She saw him exchange glances with Spotted Fur. This was so humiliating. Did Wind Runner have to scold her in front of every cat?

  Spotted Fur seemed to guess her thoughts. “Let’s get the kits into camp,” he suggested. “It’s more sheltered there.” Wind was tugging at their fur. He began to nose Silver Stripe, Black Ear, and White Tail toward the camp entrance, then glanced at Willow Tail. “Are you coming?”

  The pale tabby shook her head. “I’m going to follow Red Claw’s scent,” she growled. “I want to make sure he crossed the border.”

  Wind Runner narrowed her eyes. “Was Red Claw on our land?”

  Moth Flight lifted her head sharply. “He wasn’t hunting. He just wanted to lie in the sun.”

  “They have sun in SkyClan,” Wind Runner answered sharply. She nodded toward Willow Tail. “Go make sure he’s left our territory.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Fern Leaf offered, following Willow Tail.

  “Why do we have to have all this fuss about borders?” Moth Flight blurted.

  Wind Runner silenced her with a look. “You weren’t around for the great battle. If you had been, you’d understand.” There was darkness in her gaze.

  Moth Flight curled her claws into the ground. I don’t know why I bother opening my mouth. Her fur pricked angrily along her spine as Willow Tail headed away. Then she remembered her plant. She had to fetch it before a rabbit ate it or the wind blew it away. She turned and began to pad downslope.

  “Where are you going?” Wind Runner snapped.

  Moth Flight halted. What was wrong now? “I have to fetch a new plant I discovered.”

  “No you don’t.” Wind Runner’s mew was hard with anger. Gorse Fur nosed past the Clan leader and met Moth Flight’s gaze. “Your mother wants us to go hunting together.”

  But my plant! Moth Flight’s heart sank. What was the point in arguing? Wind Runner would never understand.

  Dust Muzzle weaved around her. “Come on,” he murmured to her softly. “Hunting will put us all in a good mood.” He snatched a glance at Wind Runner.

  Moth Flight huffed. “Yeah, right.”

  Gorse Fur sniffed the air. “I smell rabbit!” Lifting his tail, he raced across the grass. Wind Runner shot Moth Flight a final searing look, and bounded after him.

  Dust Muzzle nudged Moth Flight with his shoulder. “Come on. She can’t be angry forever.”

  Moth Flight stared after her mother. The lithe tabby moved with expert speed acros
s the grass, her tail low, and her shoulders pumping rhythmically. Why did Wind Runner have to be so good at everything?

  Dust Muzzle darted away. “I’ll race you!” he called over his shoulder.

  Moth Flight hurried after him, her heart like a stone in her chest. Her brother’s words rang in her ears as her paws thrummed the earth. She can’t be angry forever. Wind streamed through her fur.

  With a daughter like me, she probably can.

  CHAPTER 3

  Gorse Fur pulled up sharply as the slope steepened toward the moortop. Moth Flight was out of breath and relieved to see Wind Runner halt beside her mate. Dust Muzzle reached them first. She couldn’t help noticing that he was hardly panting as she scrambled to a halt beside him.

  Wind Runner surveyed the moor, her pelt rippling the chilly breeze. Moth Flight gazed past her, staring across the wide valley that dipped behind them to Highstones. The sun burned orange in the pale blue sky and, as it sank toward the craggy peaks, Moth Flight watched their vast shadow fall across the moor and fold it in darkness. She suddenly felt very small.

  “Moth Flight!” Her mother’s stern mew made her jump.

  “What?”

  “Didn’t you hear me?”

  Moth Flight stared in dismay. No.

  “I told you to go with Dust Muzzle and hunt out the prey around that gorse patch.” Wind Runner nodded toward a clump of prickly bushes downslope. “Gorse Fur and I will check the high burrows for rabbits.”

  Dust Muzzle frowned. “Can’t I hunt rabbits too?”

  “Stay with your sister,” Wind Runner told him. “She’s not fast enough for rabbits and if I let her hunt alone, she’ll probably end up bringing home nothing but leaves.” She stared at Moth Flight. “And leaves don’t fill empty bellies.”

  Moth Flight turned away and stomped down the slope.

  Dust Muzzle quickly caught up. “Ignore her,” he advised. “Her bad mood won’t last.”

  “It’s my fault she’s in a bad mood in the first place.” Moth Flight padded on, not looking at her brother. “She’s going to torture me all day just because I fell asleep.”

  “You were supposed to be looking after Slate’s kits,” Dust Muzzle reminded her gently.

  “They were okay, weren’t they? I rescued them!” Moth Flight lashed her tail. It wasn’t like she didn’t try to be a good cat. “Why can’t Wind Runner be pleased with that?”

  Dust Muzzle didn’t answer, but walked closer to Moth Flight, his pelt brushing hers. “Let’s forget about it and catch something tasty.” He slowed as they neared the gorse.

  The grass around the prickly bushes rippled like water in the wind. Moth Flight flattened her ears to block out the sound of the breeze. She tasted the air, hoping for prey scent. Dust Muzzle was right. If she could take home some prey, Wind Runner would be pleased, surely?

  Dust Muzzle halted. “I wonder if Willow Tail caught up with Red Claw?”

  “I hope not.” Moth Flight remembered Willow Tail’s anger at the SkyClan cat. “What if she starts a fight? She might get hurt.”

  “She wouldn’t attack him on her own.” Dust Muzzle lifted his muzzle, tasting the air. “She’s not a rabbit-brain.”

  “But she seemed so angry with him.” Moth Flight fretted. “I know he was on our land, but he wasn’t hunting. It was like Willow Tail wanted to pick a fight with him.”

  “Maybe.” Dust Muzzle’s gaze was fixed on the shadows beneath the gorse. “But she and Wind Runner were right, too: They have sunny clearings on SkyClan territory. Maybe he was up to something.”

  “Maybe,” Moth Flight murmured. But she didn’t believe it.

  Am I crazy to trust Red Claw?

  “Anyway,” Dust Muzzle went on, “the next Gathering’s the day after tomorrow. We can see if she causes more trouble then.”

  Moth Flight was still thinking. “They were rogues together,” she began, relishing the gossip. It was a nice change from worrying about Wind Runner. But as she spoke, Dust Muzzle dropped into a crouch.

  Moth Flight froze and followed his gaze. A shrew was rooting in the grass below a gorse branch.

  Her paws itched with excitement. “Let me catch it!” she whispered.

  Dust Muzzle gave a tiny nod, his gaze still on the shrew.

  Sinking low, Moth Flight crept forward. The shrew buried its snout deep into the grass. It has no idea I’m here. Delighted, Moth Flight leaped, pushing hard with her hind legs. Too hard! She sailed into the gorse, crashing through the branches. The prickles stabbed her nose and she screwed up her eyes to protect them. Recoiling with a yowl, she tripped over Dust Muzzle as he darted past her.

  Finding her paws, she rubbed her nose, wincing at the sting.

  A moment later Dust Muzzle scrambled from beneath the bush. The shrew dangled from his jaws, dead.

  “You got it!” Moth Flight blinked at him proudly. “I wish I was as good at hunting as you.”

  Dust Muzzle laid the shrew at her paws. “You will be one day. Until then, why don’t we tell Wind Runner you caught this?”

  Moth Flight bristled. “I don’t need your help!” she snapped, then felt instantly guilty as hurt flashed in her brother’s eyes. “I’m sorry. That’s really kind of you. But I’m not going to pretend to be something I’m not. I’m useless at hunting.”

  “You just need practice.” Dust Muzzle leaned forward and licked her nose. “You’re bleeding,” he mewed as he pulled away.

  “I am?” Moth Flight sighed. Wind Runner would guess she’d crashed into the gorse bush.

  “Give it a wash,” Dust Muzzle suggested. “It’ll hardly show.” He scooped up the shrew and headed upslope.

  “Aren’t we hunting anymore?” Moth Flight called after him.

  “I think we’ve frightened away all the prey around here.” Dust Muzzle’s mew was muffled by the shrew. “Let’s help Wind Runner and Gorse Fur hunt rabbits.”

  Moth Flight followed him, her ears twitching. She’d ruined the hunt.

  As they neared the burrows dotting the high moor, Moth Flight was surprised to see her parents sitting side by side. Why weren’t they hunting? They faced Highstones, their backs to Moth Flight and Dust Muzzle. Wind ruffled their fur, and their heads were bent in conversation.

  Their words caught on the wind as she and Dust Muzzle neared.

  “Don’t be so hard on her.” Gorse Fur was pleading.

  Moth Flight slowed, Dust Muzzle slowing with her.

  “It’s about time she grew up and took responsibility,” Wind Runner snapped. “She’s not a kit anymore. I don’t make allowances for the rest of my Clan! Why should I make them for her?”

  Moth Flight felt Dust Muzzle glance at her. Her pelt prickled uncomfortably along her spine and she didn’t return his gaze. Her parents were talking about her!

  “She’s not irresponsible,” Gorse Fur argued, his tone hardening. “She just notices things other cats don’t. She gets distracted, that’s all.”

  “When there are mouths to feed and kits to protect, she shouldn’t be distracted,” Wind Runner’s tail lashed behind her. “Dust Muzzle isn’t always getting into trouble. Why can’t she be more like him?”

  “Dust Muzzle will make a fine hunter one day, but Moth Flight is special,” Gorse Fur pressed. “Can’t you see that?”

  Wind Runner stared at her mate, blankly. “WindClan doesn’t need special cats. It needs hunters and fighters!”

  Special! Moth Flight growled. “They think I’m rabbit-brained!” she said softly.

  Dust Muzzle dropped the shrew. “Gorse Fur is just trying to explain that you’re different from other cats.”

  Moth Flight glared at him. “You think I’m different, too?”

  “Not in a bad way.” Dust Muzzle blinked at her uneasily.

  “I don’t want to be different!” Moth Flight hissed.

  “Moth Flight!” Gorse Fur turned. “Are you two back already?” His mew was sharp with surprise.

  Wind Runner was staring at the shrew. “Is t
hat all you caught?”

  “That’s all there was,” Dust Muzzle dipped his head.

  Wind Runner snorted. “I suppose Moth Flight tripped over her tail and scared the other prey away.”

  Moth Flight couldn’t meet her mother’s gaze. She’d guessed right away that it was her fault, without even noticing the scratch on her nose. Moth Flight clenched her teeth, anger and hurt pulsing through her. I can be just as good as any other Clan cat! Determined to impress her mother, she scanned the moortop desperately for something she could catch. With a rush of relief she spotted a lapwing, stalking through the rippling grass beyond the rise. She dropped into a crouch and padded toward it.

  Just watch me!

  The lapwing was stabbing its beak into the earth, twitching as it caught something and began to tug.

  Moth Flight’s breathing quickened as she willed the bird’s prey to resist and keep the lapwing distracted. Just for a few moments! She was a fox-length away now, her tail swishing over the grass with excitement.

  The lapwing froze, its eye catching sight of her and sparking with panic.

  Moth Flight leaped, stretching out her paws wildly as the lapwing flapped into the air. She tried to reach up, twisting. Her claw grazed a talon as the wind from its wings blasted her face and she landed with a whump on her side.

  Embarrassed, she scrambled to her paws. I nearly had it! Disappointment swamped her as she looked around to see Wind Runner shaking her head sadly.

  Gorse Fur hurried toward her. “Great try, Moth Flight.”

  Dust Muzzle followed close at his father’s paws. “Lapwings are hard to catch,” he sympathized.

  Gorse Fur stopped beside her. “Your tail gave you away,” he told her gently. “No matter how excited you feel, you must keep it still and lift it just above the ground so you can move silently. We might be smarter than prey, but prey knows what to listen for and, if it hears anything unusual, instinct will send it fleeing in the blink of an eye.”

  Moth Flight hung her head. “I let it get away.”

  “Don’t worry,” Gorse Fur told her cheerfully. “You’ve learned something. That’s what’s important. You’ll be catching lapwings before long.”