As she burst out of camp, relishing the fresh breeze that streamed through her whiskers, heather scent filled her nose.
Happiness surged beneath Moth Flight’s pelt as she raced downslope. She would find catmint and cure Rocky! She pushed harder against the grass. Paw steps thumped behind her as Spotted Fur and Dust Muzzle caught up.
“Slow down!” Dust Muzzle called. “You can’t run all the way!”
“We’ll have to walk in the forest.” Moth Flight kept her gaze fixed ahead. The roots and brambles under the trees would slow them down. They might as well make good time here, where they knew the terrain well. She ducked into a swath of heather, heading down a rabbit trail she’d followed countless times before.
Racing out the other side of the heather, she headed for the forest, Dust Muzzle and Spotted Fur following her.
They crossed the border gingerly, exchanging glances. The whole Clan told tales of the days when Clear Sky had challenged any cat he’d found in his forest. We’ll be fine. Moth Flight lifted her chin. Since the great battle, cats had crossed each other’s territory freely, but it was understood that no cat would hunt on another cat’s land. We’re not hunting. As the trees blocked the sun’s warmth, she shivered. What if a SkyClan cat challenged them the same way Willow Tail had challenged Red Claw about his “theft”? She pushed the thought away.
Rocky needed catmint.
Dust Muzzle was staring between the towering trunks, eyes wide as he adjusted to the gloom. “SkyClan cats must have eyes like owls.”
Birdsong echoed eerily from the tree trunks, closed in by the canopy of branches. Sunshine filtered through the bright new leaves and dappled the forest floor. Brambles spilled from between the trees, and ferns unfurled in wide clumps.
Moth Flight tasted the air. The musty flavor of old leaves and damp wood bathed her tongue. “Don’t SkyClan and ThunderClan miss the sunshine?” she whispered.
“They must.” Spotted Fur fluffed out his pelt. “It’s weird not hearing the wind.”
Moth Flight realized that the pressing hum in her ears was the sound of stillness. High overhead the leaves swished, but down here, among the roots, no breeze stirred.
“This way.” Dust Muzzle padded forward, heading up a rise where the forest sloped toward a small clearing and sunlight broke through the canopy.
Tiny paws scuttled across the leaves to one side. Spotted Fur jerked his head around.
“Ignore it,” Dust Muzzle warned. “We can catch bigger prey when we’re back on the moor.”
Spotted Fur huffed and followed Dust Muzzle as he jumped over a fallen log. Moth Flight scrambled behind them, yelping as a bramble snagged her paw.
Dust Muzzle glanced back. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Moth Flight tugged herself free, wincing. “How do they hunt here?”
Spotted Fur shrugged. “Perhaps they wait for their prey to trip.”
At the top of the rise, Moth Flight relished the warmth of the sun for a moment before shadow swallowed it again. “Do you know which way to go?” she called to Dust Muzzle, who had pulled into the lead. He was following a trail smoothed by rabbit tracks, by the smell of them.
“I’m trying to find the Thunderpath,” he answered.
Spotted Fur fell in beside her. “It runs between SkyClan and ShadowClan territory.”
Dust Muzzle glanced over his shoulder. “And it leads straight to Twolegplace.”
Moth Flight shuddered. “I don’t want to follow a
Thunderpath. It stinks.”
“Do you want to get lost among these trees?” Dust Muzzle argued.
“Can’t we just head away from the sun?” Moth Flight reasoned.
“We could if we could see it.” Dust Muzzle veered from the trail as brambles cut across it.
Spotted Fur paused. “Is that a gap in the trees over there?”
He pointed his nose toward a lighter stretch of forest.
Dust Muzzle headed toward it.
Moth Flight padded beside Spotted Fur, her nose twitching as the sour scent of monsters touched it. She could see light spilling between the trunks. They cleared another log, leaped a ditch, and climbed another rise. Ahead, the trees opened onto a wide gap that cut through the forest like a claw mark. Black stone lined the gash, stinking of Twoleg stench and, on the far side, the trees turned from oak to pine.
Moth Flight felt dizzy from the scents washing over her. The sharp tang of pinesap and monsters made her queasy. “Let’s stay in the trees,” she begged.
“It’ll be easier to walk along the verge.” Dust Muzzle headed out onto the grass.
Spotted Fur followed. “It’s sunny here.”
Moth Flight peered at the black stone as a monster howled past. Dust Muzzle hardly flinched. Spotted Fur only narrowed his eyes against the stinking wind that billowed in its wake.
Moth Flight ducked back among the trees. She could still remember Gorse Fur’s close brush with death. “I’m staying here.”
“Walk where I can see you!” Dust Muzzle trekked along the grass verge, keeping pace with her as she pushed through a clump of bracken.
“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Spotted Fur bounded into the forest and fell in beside Moth Flight.
“You can walk with Dust Muzzle,” she told him. “I’m okay by myself.”
“I’d rather walk with you.”
She ignored the meaningful glance he gave her and wondered if Micah was nearby. Had the farm cat explored this part of the forest yet, or had Clear Sky been keeping him busy in camp?
She opened her mouth, tasting the air for a trace of his scent.
But the stench of the Thunderpath drowned out any other smell.
Tail drooping, she padded on, scanning the trees ahead for some sign of Twoleg nests beyond.
The forest grew warm as the sun climbed higher, until Dust
Muzzle called from the verge. “I can see Twolegplace!”
Moth Flight’s heart lifted. “Is it far?”
“No!”
She quickened her pace, Spotted Fur breaking into a trot beside her. Picking her way past a bramble patch, she scanned the trees ahead. Sharp-cornered walls showed behind the trunks.
She broke into a run as she reached the edge of the woods.
Dust Muzzle left the verge and hurried to catch up with her as she zigzagged through the undergrowth until she reached a sheer wooden wall. She stopped at the bottom, judging the height. Taking a breath, she leaped. She hooked her claws into the rough wood and scrambled like a squirrel to the top.
Balancing on the narrow ridge, she gazed across the jumble of Twoleg nests and patches of grass, crisscrossed by a maze of wooden walls. The ridge wobbled as Dust Muzzle and Spotted Fur jumped up beside her.
“We should split up,” Moth Flight told them.
Dust Muzzle narrowed his eyes as he scanned the nests. “We don’t know what we’re looking for.”
“Micah says catmint looks like nettles,” Moth Flight told him. “Its leaves are smaller and don’t sting. He said that it smells so great, you’ll know if you find it.”
Spotted Fur’s pelt ruffled. “Does Micah know every herb?”
There was an edge in his mew.
“Just catmint.” Moth Flight gazed down into the grassy clearing below. Unusual plants crowded the edge. She opened her mouth and let their scent touch her tongue. Nothing smelled great. She nodded toward the wooden walls farther along. “You search there, I’ll head the other way,” she told Dust Muzzle.
“I’m sticking with you,” Spotted Fur told her.
Moth Flight dug her claws into the ridge. “We’ll find it quicker if we split up.” Spotted Fur was nice but she didn’t want him breathing on her tail everywhere she went.