Song eight of Night Visions.

A/N: This takes MOONS after Hear Me.

I'm coming home to you

Every night

“Only one kit?” asked Moss. “The vet said there’d be more.” He padded in the kitchen and stood next to Martha.

Suzanne fidgeted in the shadows. “Live with it,” she growled. 

Martha and Moss glared scathingly at Suzanne. Ever since Martha had announced she was expecting Moss’s kits, Suzanne had both started to treat them like dung.

“Well, lets have a look,” meowed Moss. Curled up beside Martha’s belly was a white kit, with one dark blue eye and one light blue eye.

“You wanted to give him a clan name,” Martha purred. “Because of our plan.”

Suzanne snorted rudely.

“Cloverkit,” he decided. “We’re calling him Cloverkit.”


I'm the colorless sunrise

That's never good enough

I'm the wind that's in your hair

That ruffles you up

“So,” meowed Martha, “Repeat the plan again.”

“Once Cloverkit is fit to travel,” began Moss, “We go back to Featherclan.”

“What if Cloverkit dies?” whispered Martha. “Cats close to you always seem to die, don’t they?”

“Not necessarily,” chirped Mosspaw. “You haven’t died yet.”

“I know, but…” whispered Martha. “He looks sick.”

“He’s newborn!” retorted Moss. “How can he be sick at such a young age?”

“You don’t know everything Moss,” teased Martha. “You don’t know everything.”

If you can find a reason

You can let me know

I won't blame you

I'll just turn and go

“His strength’s improving,” commented the vet’s cat. “He’ll be fit to travel in a week or two.”

“Great!” exclaimed Martha. 

“Yes, thank you, Marcus.” Moss dipped his head. 

Marcus bowed. “Anytime.” He headed out the door.

“So when do we go?” asked Moss excitedly.

Martha rolled her eyes. “You heard Marcus. In a week.”

One week. One long week.


I'm coming home to you

Every night

Coming home to you

Every night

“Come on!” Moss yelled. “I’ve been waiting here for ages!”

“I’m coming,” Martha mewed irritably. Cloverkit trotted beside her on tiny white paws.

“We’ll get out of Woodsford by dawn,” said Moss. “We’ll be at the clans by tomorrow afternoon.”

Martha still looked hesitant. “Come on!” he encouraged her. “It’ll be fun!”

“What you don’t realise,” said Martha softly, “Is that Cloverkit is too young to do this.”

“We’ll carry him,” promised Moss. He felt a tap on one of his paws.

“I can walk, daddy,” squeaked Cloverkit.

Moss purred at his son’s cuteness. “No,” he said, “You’re being carried. Now lets go on an adventure!”

Cloverkit squealed with delight as Moss carried him down the street.

My mind is made up

Nothing could change that

I'm coming home to you

Every night...

Just as Moss had promised, they had left Woodsford by dawn and were now frolicking in an orchard.

“Luck doesn’t last forever, and soon you will walk through the fire again, feel the burns and scars that have long gone appear again.”

“Did you hear that? It sounded like a prophecy,” Moss gasped.

Martha shrugged. “Who knows. I didn’t hear anything.”

Moss watched his son closely. Perhaps the prophecy had something to do with him.


Searching to find myself

But all I find is you

I can hardly stand myself

So what am I to you?

“Cloverkit is coping so well for such a tiny kit,” Martha remarked.

“His father is a clan cat, why else would he be coping so well?” joked Moss.

“Look, about the clans…” started Martha. “Will we be accepted?”

Moss licked a paw and combed it over his head. “I’m a clan cat, Cloverkit has clan blood, and you are his mother, so we’ll be welcomed.”

“Doesn’t explain much to me,” Martha muttered darkly. “And I’m starting to worry about that prophecy.” 

If you can find a reason

You could let me know

I won't blame you

I'll just turn and go

“Almost there!” chirped Moss.

“You sure?” asked Martha.

Moss snorted. “I’ve been along this route lots of times.”

“Can I play with the other kits daddy?” asked Cloverkit. “And I want to visit the cats in the sky!”

Moss purred. “You’ll see them soon enough.”

“But I want to see them now!” Cloverkit whined.

“You’ll see them when we get there!” Moss snapped.

Martha laid her tail tip on his shoulder and Moss relaxed. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I’m just anxious and nervous about getting back to my clan.”

“I’d feel the same if I were you,” said Martha comfortingly. Moss nodded. It was great to have a mate by his side.


I'm coming home to you

Every night

Coming home to you

Every night

My mind is made up

Nothing could change that

I'm coming home to you

Every night

Rookwing twined his tail around Berryheart’s. “Three wonderful kits,” he sighed.

Berryheart forced a smile. “Yeah.”

“What should we call them?” he asked, purring.

“Russetkit, Mosskit, and Flamekit.”

“Mosskit?” Rookwing snorted. “You name one of our kits after that loser traitor?”

Berryheart turned on her mate. “He is not a loser!” she screeched. “You are for calling him that!”

“But he’s dead!” scoffed Rookwing.

“We can never be certain until we have proof,” stated Berryheart. She turned her head to the sky.

Somewhere out there was Mosspaw. And he was alive.


No matter, no matter

No matter what we're facing

It don't matter, don't matter

'Cause the reason that I'm here

Is the same through all these years

Not changing, not changing

Anything at all

Moss breathed in the scent of Featherclan. He tapped the camp barrier.

“Who’s there?” growled a voice.

“Mosspaw,” meowed Moss cheerily. “But my name’s Moss now.”

He heard a thud and rushed inside.

“Oh look,” squeaked Cloverkit, “He’s fainted!”

“Mosspaw!” yowled Berryheart. She shoved Rookwing away from her and rushed up to meet Moss. “Where have you been?”

“Places,” Moss purred. “Gather round the Feathertree and I’ll feel you all about it.”

Dapplestar graciously let him on the tree, and he began to tell the clan of his adventures, starting from the moment he got caught in a blizzard.


“What an intriguing story,” said Dapplestar. “I think you deserve something that should have been yours a long while ago.”

My warrior name! “I’d like my mate to have a warrior name too,” he chirped.

Dapplestar steadily eyed Martha and Cloverkit. “Very well,” he said slowly. “And your son?”

“His name is Cloverkit.” nodded Moss.

Dapplestar smiled. “Looks like you didn’t forget your friends and family, Mosspaw.”

Moss dipped his head. “Why would I?” he asked. “And call me Moss until after the ceremony.”


I'm coming home to you

Every night

Coming home to you

Every night

“He’s alive?” screeched Flame. The white she-cat slunk further into the shadows of the dark den. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He only just arrived,” squeaked out the cat.

Flame tossed her head. “Gather the troops,” she ordered. “We need an army.”

“And send them all to the Featherclan camp.”

My mind is made up

Nothing could change that

I'm coming home to you

Every night

“I now announce you Mossleap, Birdnose, and Cloverkit,” announced Dapplestar.

Spots swam before Mossleap’s eyes. He was home! Actually home!

But those weren’t spots. Those were cats. An army of them, ready to dominate.

And then the sun was gone.

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