Эрин Хантер - Moth Flight’s Vision

No! Moth Flight closed her eyes and pictured Micah on the stepping-stones, the river sparkling around him. That night, as they’d curled in their nest in Dappled Pelt’s den, he’d asked her to be his mate. While Dappled Pelt slept they’d planned a future in soft whispers. They’d told each other that StarClan would find a way for them to be together; they could be medicine cats to both Clans, traveling between them, but always at each other’s side.

Moth Flight felt her mother’s flank pressing against hers.

She watched as Clear Sky pushed a pawful of earth into the hole. Would either leader have let them live that way? Would StarClan ?

She’d never know now.

Her throat tightened. A wave of sadness flooded her, so strong that the ground swayed beneath her. Wind Runner pressed harder against her. Gorse Fur padded to her other side and pushed his shoulder beneath hers.

Clear Sky lifted his muzzle. “I had doubts about taking Micah in,” he meowed. “When he cured Tiny Branch, I regretted my promise to let him stay. He was a farm cat, sleek from easy living, too sure of himself to be trusted. I didn’t think he had any place in a Clan.”

Nettle nodded. Quick Water murmured in agreement.

Clear Sky went on. “But I was wrong.” He gazed sadly into the grave. “He devoted every thought and every moment to his Clanmates.” His gaze flitted from Nettle to Quick Water. “All of us who doubted him came to respect his intelligence and value his kindness.” The SkyClan cats nodded solemnly.

Star Flower moved closer to the SkyClan leader as he continued. “I respected Micah. He stood up to me. He did what he thought was right, not what would please me. He died doing what he thought was right.” He looked at Moth Flight. “He had to climb back into the tree; he was being true to himself. He died as he lived—caring about others, bravely and without hesitation. We were lucky to have known him, even for so short a while.”

The forest seemed to spin around Moth Flight. She felt Wind Runner and Gorse Fur press closer, supporting her as her paws buckled beneath her.

Clear Sky’s gaze was still on her. “Will you speak for him?”

“I can’t—” Moth Flight faltered. Grief seemed to be tearing her heart in two. The other cats stared at her expectantly. She glanced into the hole, glimpsing a flash of Micah’s pelt where the rising sun’s rays pierced the depths. “May StarClan light your path.”

She blinked, surprised at herself. The words seemed to appear in her mouth and roll from her tongue as though she had spoken them countless times before.

“May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

Murmurs of approval rippled around the other cats.

Moth Flight backed away.

Wind Runner was watching her, eyes bright with worry.

“I’m okay,” Moth Flight breathed. “I just need to be alone.”

She turned and fled back to the glade, skidding to a halt as she saw the scattered remains of the splintered branch. She turned, her gaze flashing wildly around the forest, unsure where to go.

“Moth Flight.” A gentle mew sounded from the trees behind her.

Pebble Heart padded over the rise. “I came to pay my respects.”

Moth Flight glanced past him, toward the grave, hidden beyond the crest of the hollow. “Are they burying him?” She pictured the earth tumbling over Micah’s poor, beautiful, broken body.

“He is safe now.” Pebble Heart stopped beside her. “You should go home and mourn.”

“No!” Alarm jolted through her. She didn’t want to be like Slate, moving around the hollow like a shadow, pitied by her Clanmates. She didn’t want to see her den. Micah had been there. They’d been so excited when they’d remembered the tree bark. Her breath quickened. Rocky would still be there. How could she take care of him? How could she take care of any cat?

Her thoughts tumbled, confused. She’d never be able to remember any herb. Every cat would be depending on her. She struggled for breath.

“Moth Flight.” Pebble Heart’s soft mew sounded through the roar of blood in her ears. “Eat this.” An aromatic scent touched her nose. The ShadowClan medicine cat had laid a sprig of tiny leaves at her paws. “It’s thyme. It will calm you.”

Blindly, Moth Flight leaned down and grabbed the sprig, chewing it as the world seemed to spin around her. Its pungent flavors bathed her tongue, pulling her thoughts away from the spiraling terror that filled her mind. Slowly she felt her heart begin to slow. She blinked, the blurred bluebells brightening around her.

“Come back to my camp,” Pebble Heart murmured. “Reed Tail can look after WindClan for a while. You can have peace to grieve until you feel strong enough to return to your Clanmates.”

Moth Flight blinked at him, soothed by his amber gaze.

“Will Tall Shadow let me stay?”

“Yes. If I ask her,” Pebble Heart told her.

Wind Runner’s mew sounded at the top of the glade. “Will

Tall Shadow let you stay where?” She hurried down the slope, ears twitching.

“I want Moth Flight to spend some time with ShadowClan,” Pebble Heart told her calmly.

“Why?” Wind Runner bristled. “She should be with her kin.”

Pebble Heart returned her gaze. “She needs to be away from responsibility until she’s strong enough to bear her grief.”

Moth Flight looked at Wind Runner, expecting her mother to argue, but saw worry darken her yellow eyes.

“Is this what you want?” she asked Moth Flight.

Moth Flight nodded, strangely calm. She guessed the thyme must be soothing her. She leaned against Pebble Heart, gratitude washing her pelt.

Pebble Heart dipped his head to Wind Runner. “I’ll take her to my camp.”

Wind Runner shifted her paws. “I’ll send Dust Muzzle to check on her soon.”

“Not too soon,” Pebble Heart told her. “She’ll be in good paws. I’ll take care of her until she’s strong enough to take care of herself.”

Gorse Fur called from the top of the slope. “We should get back to the moor, Wind Runner. The Clan will be unsettled.

They’ll need you.”

Wind Runner touched her nose to Moth Flight’s cheek.

“Take care.”

Moth Flight nodded dumbly as her mother bounded up the slope, and then Pebble Heart began to guide her across the glade. He nudged her gently up the far slope, steering her toward a rabbit trail that cut between the brambles.

With every paw step, grief jabbed at Moth Flight’s heart.

She was walking away. She would never again see Micah in the forest or on the moor. She was leaving him behind, alone beneath the earth.

Pebble Heart led the way into the ShadowClan camp, ducking through a gap in the vast bramble hedge into a wide, pine needle–strewn clearing.

Juniper Branch looked up from a mouse she was gnawing and blinked sympathetically at Moth Flight. The tortoiseshell queen was looking plump, her belly swollen. Her mate, Raven

Pelt, glanced toward Moth Flight, catching her eye before awkwardly snatching his gaze away.

Mouse Ear, sitting on a sun-dappled patch of grass at the edge of the clearing, leaned closer to Mud Paws and murmured into his friend’s ear. “I heard she was in love with the farm cat.”

Moth Flight fixed her gaze ahead. What do you know? She felt unreasonably angry. Micah was dead and these cats would never know him. It wasn’t fair.

“Moth Flight.” Tall Shadow padded from the head of the clearing, her eyes soft with sympathy.

Moth Flight stopped and stared at her paws. “Pebble Heart said I could stay,” she mumbled.

Pebble Heart padded past her and leaned close to the ShadowClan leader. “I thought she’d grieve more easily here, away from anything that will stir memories.”