Эрин Хантер - Moth Flight’s Vision

But Gray Wing dipped his head and stepped back. “Half

Moon will explain.”

The white she-cat sat down and tucked her tail over her paws. “We brought you here for a reason,” she began.

“Why me? I’m not special. I’m just a—”

Half Moon silenced her with a look. “You are special.”

Moth Flight remembered Gorse Fur’s words on the moortop.

Dust Muzzle will make a fine hunter one day, but Moth Flight is special. She stared at her paws. “I can’t hunt as well as the others. I keep getting distracted.” Had the spirit-cats brought her all this way to tell her she wasn’t good enough to be a Clan cat?

“We know,” Half Moon meowed softly. “But that’s not a bad thing. We want you to carry on being yourself.”

“Being myself ?” What did that mean ?

“Honor the qualities that make you who you are,” Half

Moon went on gently. “Your curiosity, your dreams, your openness to the world around you.”

Moth Flight blinked at her in surprise. “But they are useless qualities in a Clan. Curiosity and dreams don’t feed hungry bellies.” Moth Flight could hear her mother’s voice as she spoke.

Half Moon’s tail twitched. “Let your Clanmates fill empty bellies. They will always be better hunters than you.”

Moth Flight’s pelt burned with shame.

“You have strengths no other cat has,” Half Moon went on.

“Of course curiosity is no good for a hunter, nor is an open mind. A hunter must focus on the prey in front of his nose. He misses the things that you notice.”

Moth Flight struggled to understand. “But all I see are stars in puddles and interesting plants!”

“You saw this cave in your dreams,” Half Moon pointed out.

“You clearly have a stronger connection with us than any other cat has.”

“But other cats have seen you!” Moth Flight argued.

“That was at the beginning. Before the Clans had found their way. Now things must change.” Half Moon glanced around her starry companions. “The Clans need more than leadership and strength; they need nurture and care. But it must come from within. We can’t guide their paws in everything. That is why we have chosen you to be the first medicine cat.”

Moth Flight’s pelt rippled along her spine. “ Medicine cat?

What do you mean?”

Half Moon tipped her head. “You will learn to heal your Clanmates when they are sick or wounded using plants from the moor, forest, and river.”

Moth Flight remembered each of the leaves she’d brought back to camp over the past few moons. Could some of them be used to heal? How would she know? She shifted her paws, her thoughts quickening. When she’d been a kit, her littermate, Morning Whisker, had died from the sickness that had swept through the Clans. Then Cloud Spots had figured out that an herb—the Blazing Star—could fight the illness, and the sick cats were cured. And there were already cats skilled in helping others. Last leafbare, when every cat had been coughing and many became so sick they could not hunt, Pebble Heart from ShadowClan had brought herbs to cure them. Dappled Pelt had come from RiverClan and helped Slate birth her kits. She could start by learning from these cats.

Enthusiasm pulsed through her paws. Then she could discover new herbs. One day, she might find her own Blazing Star—an herb that would save her Clanmates! Moth Flight’s heart quickened. She imagined Wind Runner watching her heal a sick cat. She could already see the surprise in her mother’s eyes. She won’t be angry with me anymore! And my Clanmates will stop thinking I’m useless!

A purr sounded in Half Moon’s throat and Moth Flight’s attention snapped back to the starry she-cat. Half Moon was gazing at her fondly. “You look like you relish the challenge.”

“I do.” Moth Flight met her green gaze, suddenly aware that she could feel her paws trembling. “I just hope I’m good enough.”

A brown tabby she-cat pushed past Half Moon. Moth Flight backed away, unnerved by the fierceness in the tabby’s starry gaze.

“You must devote yourself to your Clan,” the she-cat growled.

Moth Flight stiffened crossly. I already do!

Half Moon brushed her tail soothingly along the tabby’s spine. “She will come to know that, Rainswept Flower. In time.”

An orange tabby she-cat called from the far side of the rock.

“You must learn the way of healing herbs.”

“And you must learn to recognize the omens we send you!”

A tom, his pelt dark as night sky and glittering with stars, padded closer. His gaze was stern. “Only you will know what our omens mean. You must use such knowledge to advise your leader.”

Advise Wind Runner? Moth Flight blinked. “She’ll never listen to me !”

The black tom didn’t blink. “Then you must be strong. You must make her listen.”

Half Moon nodded. “Moon Shadow is right. This is not an easy task we give you. But we are relying on you to keep your Clan safe.”

Moth Flight’s mouth grew dry. “I’ll try,” she promised softly. “But what about the other Clans? Do I have to I keep them safe as well?”

Moon Shadow answered her. “Each Clan will have its own medicine cat.”

Moth Flight blinked. “Have you spoken with them already?”

“ You must tell them,” Moon Shadow ordered.

“But how will I know who they are?” Moth Flight felt dizzy.

How could she tell other cats how they must live their lives?

And was she ready to change her own life—to spend it healing rather than hunting? She would be responsible for her Clanmates!

Half Moon shifted, gently shooing Moon Shadow and Rainswept Flower backward with her tail. She glanced at the empty stone in front of Moth Flight. “Watch.”

Moth Flight followed her gaze, gasping as a shape shimmered into view. “Dappled Pelt!” She recognized the RiverClan she-cat, curled in a nest fast asleep, and wondered how she could be here in the cave. Tentatively, she reached out and tried to touch the she-cat’s pelt. Her paw passed through air.

“She is at home, dreaming in her nest,” Half Moon glanced over her shoulder and beckoned a brown-and-white tabby she-cat closer with a flick of her tail. “Bright Stream. Come and share your blessing with Dappled Pelt.”

Bright Stream padded toward the vision, her gaze warm as she leaned close. She touched her nose to the sleeping head.

“Protect them,” she whispered.

Moth Flight half expected Dappled Pelt to wake, but she faded from view and another cat took her place.

Cloud Spots!

As Moth Flight blinked at the sleeping ThunderClan tom, Half Moon called to another of her companions. “Jackdaw’s Cry!”

A black tom hurried forward. He looked fondly at the black-and-white cat. “Take care of your Clan.” Jackdaw’s Cry stretched his muzzle to touch his old Tribemate with his nose.

Cloud Spots flashed out of sight and a gray tom replaced him.

Pebble Heart. Moth Flight wasn’t surprised to see the ShadowClan tom appear. He’d always known more about herbs than any cat.

A tortoiseshell she-cat padded past Half Moon. Her pelt shimmered as she stopped beside the vision of Pebble Heart.

Moth Flight guessed who she was before Half Moon said her name.

“Be quick, Turtle Tail. The moon is passing.” Half Moon’s mew was thick.

Moth Flight knew that Turtle Tail was Pebble Heart’s mother. She’d been killed by a monster while trying to rescue her kits. She died the day I was born. Moth Flight felt weak with anguish as she saw joy and grief glisten like sunshine through rain in the tortoiseshell’s green gaze.