Эрин Хантер - Moth Flight’s Vision

Branch jerked with pain. She shuddered, panting as she pushed.

“It’s coming,” Pebble Heart urged.

Juniper Branch pushed again, yowling. The kits squealed and wriggled blindly beside her cheek.

“I think it’s the last one.” Moth Flight glanced at Pebble Heart as Juniper Branch fell limp. The movement inside her belly had stopped. “We did it!”

The ShadowClan medicine cat was staring down, his eyes dark.

“What’s wrong?” Moth Flight darted to his side.

“It was a she-kit,” he mewed softly.

The kit lay on her split membrane, motionless.

Moth Flight’s heart lurched as she stared at the limp body.

She thought of Emberkit, who’d died moments after he’d been born. StarClan, help it! She reached out a paw and touched the lifeless kit’s pelt. She was smaller than her littermates, her pale gray fur slick beneath Moth Flight’s pad. She leaned down and sniffed her tiny muzzle. “She’s not breathing,” she whispered.

“Like Drizzle!”

Pebble Heart blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

Moth Flight touched a paw to the tiny kit’s ribs. “She might have water inside her chest!”

Pebble Heart looked confused. “Do you know how to help her?”

Moth Flight rolled the kit onto her back and placed her paws on her chest. “I think so. But she’s so small!” The kit felt as fragile as a sparrow. How hard dare she push?

She began to pump, gently at first, and then, as she felt the easy resilience of the kit beneath her paws, harder.

“What’s happening?” Juniper Branch was reaching her muzzle around to see, her eyes wide.

“Take care of the other two,” Pebble Heart told her. “We’ll take care of this one.”

“Is it dead?” The queen’s mew was thick with fear.

“We don’t know.” Pebble Heart moved, blocking the queen’s view as Moth Flight kept working on the kit.

“What are you doing to it?” Alarm edged Juniper Branch’s mew. She tried to struggle to her paws, but fell back, weak with exhaustion.

Raven Pelt darted into the den. “What’s going on?”

Moth Flight didn’t look at the black tom, but kept pumping the kit’s chest. Am I doing the right thing? Was Half Moon watching? Breathe! Please breathe! Fear sparked beneath her pelt.

Raven Pelt shouldered his way past Pebble Heart. “What are you doing?” He stared at Moth Flight, his eyes round with horror.

As he spoke, the kit jerked and water bubbled at her lips.

Moth Flight flipped her over quickly and began to massage her back as the kit spewed up liquid. Then it mewled a loud, desperate mewl.

Moth Flight sat back on her haunches, joy lighting her like sunshine. Trembling, she met Pebble Heart’s gaze.

“You saved her.” Pebble Heart’s eyes shone.

The kit flailed its paws and mewled again.

“I think she wants her mother.” Moth Flight backed away and let Raven Pelt scoop the kit up by her scruff.

He placed it beside the others and gazed proudly at Juniper

Branch. “They’re beautiful.”

Moth Flight suddenly realized how weary she was. Juniper

Branch must be exhausted. “We should get her into her nest,” she murmured to Pebble Heart.

“I’ll see to that,” Pebble Heart told her. “You look worn out.”

Moth Flight blinked at him gratefully. “I am.” Her gaze drifted to Juniper Branch and Raven Pelt. They were gazing at their kits, and then each other, with eyes warm with love. Moth

Flight’s heart twisted, grief stabbing her so suddenly it took her breath away. She and Micah would never share such joy. Weak with sorrow, she heaved herself onto her paws and padded out of the den.

Behind her, the kits mewled while Raven Pelt and Juniper

Branch purred. The happiness Moth Flight had felt as the kit had come to life beneath her paws disappeared like mist in the wind. Oh, Micah. I miss you so much. Loss hollowed her heart once more. She longed to stop grieving, but how could she? She could never have the life she’d planned with Micah—only emptiness and long days alone. She felt as though all her dreams had died with him.

Moth Flight scanned the nettle patch. She loved this part of the pine forest. Gaps in the canopy let narrow strips of sunshine reach the mossy forest floor and nettles thrived in the rare light.

Pebble Heart was waiting for her between the ditches that rutted the ground beyond the rise. She’d been with ShadowClan for nearly a moon now and lately had begun helping him gather herbs for his store. She was used to the gloom, although the tang of pinesap had begun to make her queasy.

But she wasn’t ready to go home.

She stretched her muzzle forward and nipped through the base of a fat-looking nettle stem. Then she dragged it over the rise, careful to stay clear of the shivering leaves.

“I think we have enough.” Pebble Heart stepped out of the way as she neared the ditch, leaving room for her to drop it over the edge.

It landed on top of the others and began to wilt slowly into the muddy water.

“Are the ones we soaked yesterday finished?” she asked.

Pebble Heart leaped the next ditch and reached his paw into the next. “Yes,” he called over his shoulder. “No sting left.”

Moth Flight shook out her fur. “I wonder if drying the nettles would get rid of the sting?”

“Drying herbs is easy on the moor,” Pebble Heart hauled up a dripping stem and laid it on the ground. “There’s plenty of wind and sunshine up there. It’s too damp to dry herbs here.”

“How are you going to get through leafbare without a store of dried herbs?”

“Dappled Pelt asked me the same question last night.”

Pebble Heart glanced at her as he hooked another stem from the ditch.

Moth Flight felt a flash of guilt. She’d missed the half-moon gathering at the Moonstone. “What did you tell her?”

“I asked if she could dry some herbs for ShadowClan.” She realized that he was looking at her hopefully. “Would you dry some too? When you return to the moor?” There was a question in his eyes.

Do you want me to leave?

Pebble Heart must have seen worry darken her gaze. “I mean, when you’re ready.”

Will I ever be ready? The ShadowClan cats asked nothing of her. They brought her prey and dipped their heads respectfully, and talked about everyday things, like how the prey was running, or how soon greenleaf was coming this year. Being among them was easy.

Her own Clanmates would be more inquisitive. They’d ask about Micah. And they’d expect her to return to her medicine cat duties. Moth Flight’s belly tightened. She wasn’t ready to look after anyone yet.

When she didn’t answer, Pebble Heart glanced down at the nettle stems. “We missed you at the Moonstone last night.”

“I wanted to come with you.” She had. She knew deep in her belly that being a medicine cat was her destiny. And helping the ShadowClan medicine cat was renewing her confidence. She had a sense of purpose once more, and satisfaction in her work had distracted her from her grief. Since Juniper Branch had kitted, she’d kept a close eye on the kits. She’d taken Pebble Heart to the edge of the oak forest to gather borage to make sure that Juniper Branch had enough milk for them. But she’d felt so weary in the past moon; she crept, exhausted, to her nest every night. The thought of the long trek to Highstones had been daunting. And, if she was being honest with herself, perhaps she wasn’t ready to see Micah among the StarClan cats. That means he’s really gone . “I was tired.”