Эрин Хантер - Moth Flight’s Vision

“You have to leave!” Lowering her voice, Sparrow Fur glanced nervously over her shoulder.

“Why?”

“Clear Sky will rip you to shreds if you reach the camp,” she warned. “And then he’ll rip me to shreds for letting you.”

Moth Flight halted. “He hasn’t hurt Acorn Fur, has he?”

“No!” Sparrow Fur looked indignant. “But he’s angry that she’s been sneaking onto WindClan land to train with you. How can he prove that we don’t cross the border if she trails SkyClan scent all over the moorside?”

“But you do cross the border!” Moth Flight accused.

“Willow Tail’s seen you.”

“She hasn’t seen me! ” Sparrow Fur snapped. “SkyClan cats don’t hunt on other Clans’ land. Not like WindClan . We found Jagged Peak’s fur caught on a bramble this morning. And fresh-kill blood less than a tail-length away.”

Moth Flight growled under her breath. Wind Runner must have sent him to teach Clear Sky a lesson. She’d only made the situation worse.

“But I’m a medicine cat!” she insisted. “We need to be able to travel in each other’s territory. How else will I get catmint from Twolegplace? And how can Acorn Fur get to the Moonstone without crossing the moor?”

“That’s not my problem.” Sparrow Fur began to guide Moth

Flight toward the border.

“What if something happens to Acorn Fur and you need my help?” Reluctantly, Moth Flight let Sparrow Fur steer her back along the trail. The tortoiseshell clearly wasn’t going to let her pass without a fight, and she didn’t want to get her into trouble with Clear Sky.

“Nothing’s going to happen to Acorn Fur so long as she stops training with you.”

Moth Flight blinked at the tortoiseshell as they reached the border. “This is the dumbest decision ever!”

Sparrow Fur flicked her tail toward the moor. “Just go home!”

Moth Flight saw doubt in her gaze. “You think he’s wrong, don’t you?”

Sparrow Fur looked away. “He’s my leader,” she growled and stalked back into the forest.

Blood roared in Moth Flight’s ears. If the Clans started guarding their territory like this, how could the medicine cats share their knowledge? Half Moon’s word rang in her mind.

Every Clan’s destiny depends on you, though they don’t know it yet. Why didn’t Clear Sky understand? His medicine cat had to go where she was needed. There will come a time when they will listen to you and you alone. I can tell you this, but it’s up to you to earn their respect .

How? Helplessness swamped Moth Flight. She had to persuade Wind Runner and Clear Sky that cats’ lives were more important than borders. StarClan, what can I do?

Moth Flight threaded among the rustling bracken stems, following her Clanmates into Fourtrees, where the full moon blanched the clearing.

The scents of RiverClan and ThunderClan swirled on the warm evening breeze. She scanned the cats below, recognizing Thunder and River Ripple moving among the gathered cats, dipping their heads in greeting, while their Clanmates clustered in groups, heads close as they shared gossip.

Silver Stripe and Black Ear stampeded past Moth Flight, White Tail leading, their tails flapping excitedly. It was their first full-moon Gathering. They’d been restless all day, excited at the thoughts of seeing new faces and smelling new scents.

“Slow down!” Slate hurried at their heels, her fur rippling anxiously along her spine as her kits burst into the clearing.

Eyes flashed in the moonlight as muzzles jerked around, clearly surprised by the commotion.

Slate dodged in front of White Tail, hissing sternly. “Calm down. I don’t want RiverClan and ThunderClan thinking I raised a pack of foxes!”

As the bracken thinned around her, Moth Flight’s thoughts flashed to her own kits back in camp. Rocky had promised to watch them and make sure they were tucked in their nest by the time she returned. Spotted Fur and Holly had also stayed behind with Eagle Feather, Fern Leaf, Reed Tail, and Storm Pelt. With border tensions running high, Wind Runner had not wanted to leave the camp unguarded and, for once, Moth Flight was grateful for her mother’s caution.

Not that she believed SkyClan would attack. But if a stray dog or hungry fox found their way into camp, she knew her kits would be well protected.

This was her first Gathering in moons, and the first time she’d see the other medicine cats together since the last time she’d traveled to the Moonstone with Micah. She quickened her pace, falling in beside Dust Muzzle. Her Clanmates flanked them, moving wordlessly through the bracken. There was tension in their hunched shoulders and flicking tails as they neared the bottom of the slope. Wind Runner led the way into the clearing, her eyes narrowed. Moth Flight knew that her mother had come to settle scores, and anxiety wormed in her belly. Please let her remember the full-moon truce.

She glanced at the brambly slope at the other side of the clearing, looking for signs of SkyClan. But Clear Sky hadn’t arrived yet and the woods beyond were eerily silent.

“Moth Flight!” Following Dust Muzzle from the bracken, she recognized Dappled Pelt’s mew. The RiverClan medicine cat was hurrying toward her, Cloud Spots at her heels.

As Dust Muzzle followed Wind Runner into the throng of cats, Dappled Pelt stopped in front of Moth Flight. Her eyes shone. “How are the kits?”

“They’re well,” Moth Flight told her. In the moon since they’d been born, they’d grown more boisterous each day. Even

Blue Whisker had started exploring the camp with her littermates. Only that morning, the yellow-and-white she-kit had climbed the stones beside the camp entrance and called to Moth

Flight from the top, her fur fluffed with delight.

Cloud Spots jerked Moth Flight from the memory, flicking his tail happily. “Dappled Pelt says they have Micah’s coloring.”

“Honey Pelt looks just like him,” Moth Flight told him proudly.

Cloud Spots purred. “I’m sure Micah’s watching them from StarClan.”

He is. Happiness surged through Moth Flight as she remembered her dream.

Silver Stripe’s excited mew sounded behind her. “Please can we talk to the others?”

She turned to see the pale tabby pacing around her brothers.

Black Ear was staring wide-eyed at the gathered cats, while

White Tail gazed around thoughtfully, his nose twitching.

“RiverClan cats smell funny,” he commented.

“Hush!” Slate lowered her voice. “They smell a bit fishy, that’s all.”

“I want to ask them if they really swim!” Silver Stripe whispered.

Moth Flight nodded toward a pair of RiverClan cats. “Go and talk to Drizzle.” She’d spotted the gray-and-white she-kit—a young cat now—standing beside her brother.

Pine Needle had grown; his shoulders were broader and his black pelt was as sleek as an otter’s. He stared around the clearing, his eyes round. Moth Flight wondered if it was his first

Gathering too.

Silver Stripe padded impatiently around Slate. “Can we?” she begged.

But Black Ear was already crossing the clearing toward the young RiverClan cats.

Slate’s ears twitched. “Of course.”

Silver Stripe hared after her brother, White Tail at her heels.

“Don’t forget to be polite!” Slate called after them.

Dappled Pelt watched the young cats race away. “Gray Wing would have been proud of them.”