Swift Minnow squinted at them, lifting her tail suddenly and breaking into a run. “Moth Flight! Is that you?” She sprinted toward them, meowing happily, and skidded to a halt a tail-length away. She stared, her eyes rounding as she saw Moth
Flight’s swollen flanks. “You’re expecting kits!” Joy lit up her gaze. “Are they Micah’s?”
“Yes,” Moth Flight purred.
“We were beginning to think you were never coming home.”
Swift Minnow cast an anxious glance toward the hollow.
“I needed time to grieve,” Moth Flight explained.
The heather rustled behind Swift Minnow, as Slate padded out. She pricked her ears as she saw Moth Flight. “You’re back!”
Moth Flight felt a rush of happiness. The grieving queen looked well, her eyes brighter than they’d been in moons.
“How’s White Tail?” she called. “Have Silver Stripe and Black
Ear been behaving themselves?”
“They’re all fine!” Slate hurried toward them. “You’d hardly recognize them! They’ve grown so much.” She slowed, her ears pricking. “You’re expecting!”
Swift Minnow plucked at the grass excitedly. “They’re
Micah’s kits!” she told her friend.
Slate wove around Moth Flight purring happily. “Have you come home for good?”
“I want my kits to grow up on the moor,” Moth Flight told her.
“Hurry up!” Swift Minnow ducked into the heather. “Let’s get back to camp!”
Moth Flight noticed Pebble Heart hesitate.
“I’ll go home, now that I know you’re safe,” he meowed shyly.
“Are you sure?” Moth Flight gazed at him fondly.
“Yeah.” He flicked his tail and began to head downslope.
“Take care. Send for me when the kits come!”
“Bye, Pebble Heart!” Slate was nudging Moth Flight toward the heather. “Wait until Gorse Fur sees you! He’s been so worried.”
Moth Flight followed Swift Minnow’s trail, zigzagging between the bushes until she emerged onto the stretch of grass outside the camp entrance.
As the scents of home swept over her, her pelt rippled with pleasure.
Swift Minnow had already disappeared inside and Moth
Flight followed, her heart beating loudly in her chest.
“Moth Flight!” Dust Muzzle was the first to come bounding across the tussocky clearing. Spotted Fur and Fern Leaf hurried after him, their eyes bright.
They scrambled to a halt in front of her, staring at her belly.
“I’m expecting Micah’s kits.” She glanced anxiously at Spotted Fur. Was he still jealous?
Spotted Fur blinked at her, then purred. “Congratulations!”
Relief washed over her.
Fern Leaf purred and murmured “How exciting!” as Dust
Muzzle pressed his nose to her cheek. “I’m glad you’re home.”
Gorse Fur was crossing the clearing toward them, Rocky lumbering behind.
Moth Flight felt a flicker of worry as she saw the old cat.
“Are you better?” she called. She should have been here, taking care of him.
“I’m as healthy as a fox,” he rumbled.
Gorse Fur stopped beside her. “I knew you couldn’t stay in that dark old forest forever.” He weaved around her while
Rocky stared at her proudly.
“I’m glad you’re back,” the old tom rumbled. “Reed Tail won’t let me have catmint.”
Moth Flight stiffened. Had Rocky been exaggerating? Was he still sick? “Do you need some?”
Rocky glanced at his paws. “I don’t need it, but sometimes I get a sore throat and a little catmint always makes me feel better.”
Reed Tail was stalking toward them, his ears pricked. “The only reason you get a sore throat is from snoring so loudly!” He padded past the old tom and greeted Moth Flight with a nod.
“Thank StarClan you’re back. I’m run off my paws trying to find herbs, and if Silver Stripe ever makes it through a day without getting a scratch or a graze, I’ll be amazed.”
Moth Flight’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “Where are the kits?” She gasped as she saw three young cats bounding toward her. She recognized their pelts, but they were so big!
“Silver Stripe! Black Ear!” They looked old enough to hunt!
“White Tail, you’ve grown so handsome!” The gray-and-white kit had his father’s broad shoulders and Slate’s soft amber gaze.
“Black Ear’s handsome too!” Silver Stripe told her proudly.
“Of course he is!” Moth Flight looked admiringly at Black
Ear before purring at Silver Stripe. “And you’re as beautiful as your mother.”
“Who cares if I’m beautiful?” Silver Stripe stuck her nose in the air. “Beauty doesn’t help with hunting, and I’m going to be the best hunter in WindClan.”
“I can believe it.” Moth Flight nosed her way through her Clanmates and headed across the clearing. “How’s my den? I hope no rain’s gotten in. My herbs should be good and dry by now. Although I need to pick fresh ones. Cloud Spots says fresh herbs work better.”
Reed Tail fell in beside her. “I’ve been using your den,” he confessed. “It seemed best, since I was being medicine cat while you were away.”
Moth Flight caught his eye, gratitude flooding her. “Thank you so much,” she mewed earnestly. “I’m sorry I left you responsible for everything. I just couldn’t face…” Her mew trailed away as a sudden wave of grief slapped against her like cold water. The familiar faces and scents had carried her back to a time before Micah had died. She swallowed.
Reed Tail shot her a look. “You’ll feel at home again in no time,” he promised.
“Yes,” she answered huskily. She stopped outside her den, her Clanmates watching from beyond the tussocks. They looked so pleased to see her. Her heart swelled with thanks. Then she spotted two pairs of eyes staring from the shadows of Jagged Peak’s den. Her fur prickled anxiously. Holly and Jagged Peak hadn’t wanted her to leave. She’d stayed away for a whole moon. Taking a deep breath, she headed toward them.
Jagged Peak ducked outside first, his ears twitching.
Holly followed, her gaze cool. “A grieving cat should stay with her Clan,” she muttered.
Jagged Peak glanced at Moth Flight’s belly. “Are you carrying his kits?”
“Micah’s?” Moth Flight narrowed her eyes. “Yes. And I’m proud of it.”
“He was a SkyClan cat,” Jagged Peak grunted.
Moth Flight glared at him. “He was a farm cat too! Does that make it better or worse?”
“Jagged Peak!” Storm Pelt charged across the clearing. He stopped in front of his father and mother and blinked at them.
“You should be happy she’s come home.”
Holly sniffed. “Why did she bother? She’s been away from WindClan so long, she doesn’t even smell like a WindClan cat anymore.”
Dew Nose slid from the den and stopped beside her brother.
“Moth Flight was born WindClan and she’ll always be
WindClan.”
Storm Pelt lifted his chin. “She’s the one who found the Moonstone. Aren’t you proud she’s our Clanmate?”
“Will her kits be our Clanmates too?” Holly muttered. “Even though they carry SkyClan blood?”
“And farm-cat blood,” Jagged Peak added.
Storm Pelt faced his mother, pelt prickling. “You weren’t born WindClan!” His gaze flashed toward his father. “And you were a mountain cat who left his tribe.”
Moth Flight shifted her paws uncomfortably. She didn’t want to cause an argument between kin.
Holly eyed her kits doubtfully. “How do we know she won’t leave again?”
“I won’t,” Moth Flight promised.