“Moth Flight!” Her mother’s mew rang across the clearing.
She turned to see the WindClan leader bounding toward her.
Wind Runner skidded to a halt and thrust her muzzle against
Moth Flight’s chin. “You’re home at last!” A sigh shuddered through her. She drew back, her gaze darkening. “Did you travel here by yourself? I hope you were careful near the SkyClan border. They’ve been raiding the moor for rabbits again. Of course, Clear Sky denies it but—” She stopped and stared at Moth Flight. “You’re expecting kits!”
Moth Flight sat down, letting her belly bulge. “They’re due in a moon.”
“Micah’s?” Wind Runner tipped her head.
“Of course.” Moth Flight purred. Did her mother think they could be anyone else’s?
“Let’s hope they take after you.” Wind Runner lowered her voice. “Micah was a little too sure of himself.”
Moth Flight met her mother’s gaze calmly. “And you’re not, I suppose.”
Wind Runner’s eyes widened with surprise. Then she purred. “My little kit has grown claws.”
Moth Flight glanced down at her belly. “I need to,” she mewed. “I’ve got my own kits to protect.”
Wind Runner swished her tail, pride warming her gaze.
“You must be tired after your journey. Let’s get you settled in your nest.”
Moth Flight got to her paws, suddenly realizing how weary she felt. She snatched a look at Jagged Peak and Holly, hoping that they’d be less prickly once they saw that she was here to stay. They avoided her gaze, their pelts ruffled.
Wind Runner nudged her toward her den. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
Moth Flight purred. It felt good to be home and Wind Runner was pleased to see her. The warmth in her mother’s mew reassured her that, from now on, everything was going to be fine.
Moth Flight rolled a wad of borage leaves into a bundle and slotted them into a small gap in the gorse at the back of her den.
She relished the coolness here. Outside, early greenleaf sunshine was scorching the camp.
The scent of herbs washed over her and she thanked StarClan that she’d stopped feeling queasy. The kits were due any day and her belly was so swollen that she felt as clumsy as a toad. She sat back on her haunches and looked approvingly at the array of herbs poking out from between the branches.
“We’ve done well.” She blinked at Reed Tail.
The silver tabby tom sat down and tucked his tail over his herb-stained paws. “You’ve taught me so much.”
In the moon since she’d returned to the WindClan camp, Moth Flight had shared with him all she’d learned from the other medicine cats. When the kits came, she guessed that there would be times when she’d be too busy to tend to her Clan and she wanted him to be prepared to take her place. And so, she had spent nearly every day with him, scouring the moor for herbs, and teaching him their names as they gathered them for her store.
She glanced at her nest now, wondering when the kits would come. She had woven extra heather to make it larger, and lined it thickly with moss. She shifted as a twinge in her belly made her wince.
Reed Tail stiffened. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Moth Flight told him. “The kits are just fidgety today.”
As she spoke, fur brushed the gorse entrance.
Rocky padded into the den, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. “My chest is feeling a bit tight.” He looked at her hopefully. “Can you spare some catmint?”
Moth Flight heaved herself to her paws and crossed the den.
She pressed her ear against his flank and listened for bubbling inside his chest. He was breathing clearly. She looked at him sternly. “You’re as fit as a flea. I can’t waste catmint on healthy cats. I’d have to travel to Twolegplace to fetch more.”
“I could fetch some for you,” Rocky offered. “I know Twolegplace well. I used to live there, remember?”
“That’s a kind offer.” She wouldn’t put it past the old tom to travel to Twolegplace in search of catmint. “But let younger cats fetch the herbs. Your paws are too stiff to climb the wooden walls.”
Rocky’s eyes brightened. “Does catmint help stiff paws?”
Moth Flight’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “No, but I can give you some comfrey. Reed Tail and I picked some fresh leaves this morning.”
Rocky wrinkled his nose. “No, thanks. The stiffness doesn’t bother me that much and I—”
Moth Flight didn’t hear the rest of his words. Pain pulsed through her as a spasm gripped her belly. She gasped, swaying.
“Are the kits coming?” Reed Tail raced to her side.
“I think so.” She curled her claws into the ground, bracing herself against the pain. “Send someone to fetch Pebble Heart,” she puffed. “He knows what to do.”
Reed Tail hared from the den and left Rocky staring at her nervously.
“Do you want to lie down in your nest?” he asked hesitantly.
“No!” Moth Flight glared at him as another spasm crushed her belly. She began to pace, a growl rolling deep in her throat.
Focus on your breathing. She remembered the advice she’d given Juniper Branch and tried to concentrate on each breath.
What if she wasn’t ready? What if the kits got stuck? What if they died like Emberkit? Her thoughts began to whirl. She stopped and stared at Rocky, panic sparking through her pelt.
Rocky blinked at her. “I’ll get Wind Runner.” He ducked out of the den.
Moth Flight moaned, shocked by the pain gripping her belly.
She began pacing again, not sure what to do with herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of sitting still. Moving distracted her.
But she felt weak with the pain. She lay down as another spasm shuddered through her body. Then she scrambled to her paws, frightened at feeling so helpless.
“Moth Flight!” Wind Runner’s mew sounded at the den entrance. Her mother hurried into the den and pressed her muzzle to Moth Flight’s cheek. “Don’t be scared,” she murmured. “Everything’s going to be okay. Dust Muzzle’s on his way to fetch Pebble Heart. And Slate will be here in a moment. We’re going to look after you until Pebble Heart arrives.”
Moth Flight leaned against her mother, relief swamping her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.
“Just keep pacing until you need to lie down.” Wind Runner drew away and looked into Moth Flight’s eyes. “You’re not the first cat to have kits. You will be fine.”
“But it hurts!” Moth Flight was startled by the intensity of the pain.
Wind Runner’s eyes glistened with sympathy. “You won’t remember it afterward, I promise.”
“That doesn’t help me now!” Moth Flight snapped back.
Another spasm was coming. She closed her eyes as it swept over her. When it had passed, she gazed blearily at her mother.
“How long will it take?”
“Not long,” Wind Runner soothed. “Not long at all.”
Paw steps sounded at the den entrance and Slate hurried into the den. “How’s she doing?” she asked Wind Runner.
The Wind Clan leader shot her an anxious look. “The kits will be here before Pebble Heart,” she breathed.
Moth Flight stiffened as she heard her mother. “How do you know?”
Slate didn’t give Wind Runner time to answer. “Are the spasms that close together?” She turned to Moth Flight. “Lie down and let me feel your belly.”
Wincing as another spasm pulsed through her, Moth Flight lay down. She growled with pain, hardly feeling Slate’s paws on her belly.
Slate nodded briskly. “Your kits feel strong. I think they’re eager to come out and meet you.”
Pain scorched through Moth Flight. Stronger than before.
“Wind Runner!” She reached a paw toward her mother.
“It won’t be long now.” Wind Runner crouched beside her.
“I need a stick to bite on,” Moth Flight panted as she fought the urge to yowl with pain.
“I’ll get you one.” Slate ducked out of the den.
She returned a few moments later with a tough heather stem.
Moth Flight took it from her, relieved as she bit down hard with the next spasm. The wood crunched between her jaws and she moaned as her belly convulsed with such power that she thought she would die. Micah! She focused her thoughts on him, determined to stay strong. The image of his steady gaze shone in her thoughts. He seemed to be silently urging her on.
Groaning, she pushed with all her strength.
“Here’s the first kit!” Slate ducked behind her and lifted a small squirming bundle.
Moth Flight blinked at it, surprised, and spat out the stick.
“Is it okay?”
“It’s a he and he’s fine.” Slate laid the tom-kit beside Moth
Flight’s muzzle. His warm scent filled Moth Flight’s nose and she nuzzled him, her heart swelling as he squirmed against her cheek.
Her body convulsed again.
“Another one!” Slate sounded jubilant.
As a spasm seized her once more, the world seemed to blur around Moth Flight. She was aware only of pain and the muted voices of Wind Runner and Slate. In her mind, Micah’s green gaze glowed steady and strong. The heady scent of her new kits washed her muzzle and then, suddenly, the pain stopped.
“Four kits.” Wind Runner’s proud mew broke through the fog.
Moth Flight turned her head, blinking, and saw four squirming bundles beside her. Instinctively she pulled them close to her belly, reaching down to lap them dry. Two of the kits had yellow splotches on their soft white pelts. One was striped yellow all over, just like his father. “His fur!” she looked up at her mother. “It’s the same color as Micah’s!” The fourth was white, like Moth Flight. “I wonder what color their eyes will be.” The kits wriggled against her, their eyes still closed.
“You’ll have to wait a few days before you know.” Wind Runner’s mew was barely a whisper as she leaned down and lapped Moth Flight’s cheek. “Well done. I’m very proud of you.”
“Is she okay?” Pebble Heart’s anxious mew sounded at the den entrance. He nosed his way into the den, puffing to catch his breath. Heat radiated from his pelt.
Slate stared at him. “Did you run all the way?”
Pebble Heart was gazing at the kits. “I’m too late?”
“I’m afraid so,” Wind Runner told him apologetically. “But I’m glad you came. You can make sure Moth Flight and the kits are okay.”
“They look fine.” Pebble Heart’s eyes glowed.
Dust Muzzle stuck his head through the entrance. “He outran me!”
Moth Flight blinked fondly at the ShadowClan medicine cat.
“I did it!” Pride pulsed through her, stronger than any she’d felt before. “Aren’t they beautiful?” She hugged the kits closer, joy washing over her as she felt them warm against her belly.
Micah’s green gaze flashed once more in her mind. Thank you, Micah.
“They’re lovely,” Pebble Heart agreed. He leaned down and sniffed them. “They seem strong and healthy.”
Wind Runner tipped her head, her eyes glittering with worry.
“Will you stay tonight, just in case?”
“Of course,” Pebble Heart promised. “And I’ve spoken to Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots. They’ve agreed to visit
WindClan regularly in case anyone is injured or sick while
Moth Flight’s recovering.”
Moth Flight lifted her head. “That’s kind, but there’s no need. I’ve shared everything I know with Reed Tail. He’ll be able to look after WindClan.”
Pebble Heart blinked. “You’ve been busy!”
“I just wanted to be prepared.” Moth Flight suddenly realized that, for the past moon, she’d been thinking about the future again. The grief that had dragged her into helpless despair after Micah’s death had finally eased as she planned a new life around her kits. And now they were here, each one perfect, and her heart felt as full of love as it had been when Micah was alive. She purred loudly, joy leaping in her chest as her kits purred with her. She suddenly remembered her conversation with Sun Shadow.
I will never feel like I’ve gained more than I’ve lost.
Maybe not. But you will come to value what you still have, and what you may have in the future.
She looked at Pebble Heart. “When you go home, tell Sun
Shadow he was right.”