Эрин Хантер - Moth Flight’s Vision

The rooks had stilled and grown quiet. Moth Flight blinked up at the sky, where stars were beginning to show. She glanced toward the puddle, hoping to see their reflection sparkle like familiar friends in the muddy water.

Something moved in the field.

Moth Flight tensed. A shape was creeping along the hedge toward her. Its dark shadow rippled across the leaves, making them rustle as it passed.

A fox? The creature was skulking low to the ground. She opened her mouth to taste the air, but toad stench still soured her tongue. Belly tightening, she backed deeper into the hedge, hoping it wouldn’t see her. The creature had stopped and was sniffing the furrows. It paused and lifted its head. Moth Flight froze as its eyes flashed toward her. As it darted forward, she unsheathed her claws. Bracing her hind paws against a root, she prepared to defend herself.

Blood roared in her ears as the creature neared. She could hear its paws thrumming the earth. Its gaze darted this way and that, as though it was scanning the hedgerow.

It knows I’m here. Panic flared through her. Should I run away?

“Moth Flight!”

Moth Flight blinked in surprise. The creature was calling her name. And she recognized the mew!

“Spotted Fur?” Relief swamped her as she made out the familiar shape of his shoulders. His dappled, golden pelt was pale in the moonlight.

“I’ve found you!” He pulled up beside the hedge. “What are you doing in there? Are you okay? You smell scared.”

“I’m fine.” Moth Flight ducked out, limp with gratitude.

Heather scent pulsed from Spotted Fur’s pelt, smelling of their home. “I thought you were a fox!”

“What if I had been?” His eyes darkened with worry.

“You weren’t.” Moth Flight flicked her ear. She didn’t want to think about the answer.

“Dust Muzzle said you’d run off.”

“I did.”

“Well, you can’t stay out here all night just because you had an argument with Wind Runner. Let’s get you home.”

Moth Flight stared at him. Hadn’t Dust Muzzle explained?

“I’m not going home. I’m a danger to my Clan.”

Spotted Fur swished his tail. “Don’t be silly. You’re not a danger to any cat. Wind Runner’s upset, but it’ll all be forgotten by the morning.”

Moth Flight dug her claws into the earth. “She said the Clan would be better off without me, and she’s right. I’m not coming home.”

“You can’t stay here!” Spotted Fur stared at her. “It’s not safe. Besides, you must be starving.”

Moth Flight lifted her muzzle indignantly. “I caught a toad.”

She reached under the hedge and hauled it out.

Spotted Fur backed away, screwing up his muzzle. “You can’t eat that!”

“I already have,” Moth Flight told him proudly. “You see? I ate some of its leg. You think I can’t look after myself, but I can!”

Spotted Fur’s gaze softened. “Oh, Moth Flight. Of course you can.” He leaned forward to brush his cheek against hers but she flinched away.

“Don’t treat me like a kit!” She’d heard him talk to Black

Ear in the same tone earlier. “I’m not going home!”

Spotted Fur sat down. “Well, in that case, we’d better make a nest for the night.”

“You’re staying with me?” Moth Flight shifted her paws uneasily. She was desperate to prove she could look after herself. But it would feel safer to have Spotted Fur sleeping beside her.

“I’m not leaving you out here by yourself,” he answered.

“Besides, you’ll have changed your mind by the morning. After a good night’s rest, you’ll be ready to go home.”

No I won’t. But Moth Flight bit back her answer, frightened that he might be right.

Spotted Fur nodded toward the dead beech leaves lying in drifts along the hedge. “Why don’t we push some of those underneath the hedge to make a nest?”

“Let’s dig a hollow first,” Moth Flight suggested. “It’ll be warmer.”

“Good idea.” Spotted Fur sniffed beneath the branches, then began scraping among the roots with his forepaws.

Moth Flight pushed in beside him and helped. Before long they’d dug a shallow dip between two gnarled roots. Spotted Fur fetched pawfuls of leaves and Moth Flight patted them into a soft, if slightly crunchy, lining for their nest.

“I’m hungry,” Spotted Fur mewed when they’d finished. He sat down in the nest and sniffed the air. “Have you seen any mice?”

“If I had, do you think I’d be eating a toad?” Moth Flight sat beside him, the leaves crunching beneath her. His pelt felt warm against hers.

Spotted Fur purred. “I could go and hunt.”

“There might be dogs around. I heard them barking earlier,” Moth Flight warned. She didn’t want to be left alone in the dark.

Suddenly, she wondered how she could ever have thought of sleeping out here by herself.

Spotted Fur gazed at her fondly. “Okay.” He dipped his head. “I’ll eat your stinky toad.”

“The legs aren’t that bad.” Moth Flight reached out and, hooking the toad with a claw, dragged it into the nest. She dropped it at Spotted Fur’s paws.

“You haven’t eaten much of it,” he commented.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Have some with me now,” he urged. “It’ll be a cold night and a full belly will keep you warm.”

The toad didn’t taste so bad when she was sharing it, but it still wasn’t as good as rabbit.

Moth Flight purred as Spotted Fur screwed up his face.

“RiverClan cats eat frogs all the time,” she reminded him.

“RiverClan cats swim too,” Spotted Fur answered, chewing.

“That doesn’t mean we should go throw ourselves into the river.”

They ate as much as they could and kicked the remains out of the nest. “You never know—” Spotted Fur stopped to stifle a yawn. “A bird might come pecking around it in the morning.

Then I can catch a decent meal.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Moth Flight lied defensively. Why did he have to act as though he was better than she was? Crossly, she curled down into the nest, snuggling as deep into the leaves as she could, and closed her eyes. Spotted Fur’s rough tongue lapped her ear.

“I know you’ve had a hard day,” he murmured. “But we were all really worried about you. The others will be so relieved to see you tomorrow.”

“Even Wind Runner?” Moth Flight kept her eyes closed.

Spotted Fur touched his muzzle to her head. “ Especially Wind Runner.”

Her heart swelled and she lifted her head, blinking at him gratefully. He was such a kind friend. She should go home in the morning. She’d been a rabbit-brain to stay out here by herself. She felt him settle beside her, and relished the warmth of his pelt against hers. How could I live without my Clan? I just need to try harder. She ignored the unease tugging in her belly.

If I just practice my hunting and concentrate more on what I’m doing… Letting tiredness sweep over her, she slid into sleep.

Moth Flight opened her eyes, stiffening as darkness pressed around her. It wasn’t the glittering darkness of a starlit night, but a stifling gloom. The air smelled dank, sharp with the mineral taste of stone. She blinked, surprised to find herself standing, cold rock beneath her paws.

Where am I? Where’s Spotted Fur?

She glanced around, looking for her Clanmate and wondering what had happened to the beech hedge. All she could make out in the shadows was stone. Above her, a small opening let starlight filter in. It pooled on a large rock jutting from the floor.