Ashfeather marveled at the majesty of the Trap. "Why isn't there a herd here already?" she asked. Mossfire replied, folding his wings on his back.
"The Trap is dangerous. I've been finding dying things al over. The Trap will not live forever. There are also lots of poisonous plants here."
Stormflight interjected, saying, "How could we live here if the forest is dying?"
Mossfire replied, "We can save the forest. We could find the root of it and cut it off."
Graystripe looked at Mossfire. "Or we could find another place to settle, maybe get a herd to accept us."
Mossfire sighed. "It was worth a try. We could leave for Sun Herd in the morning." Ashfeather nodded in agreement, and Mossfire led the other weanlings to a hollow log in the canter of the Trap.
The foals slept there, cozy until they heard a twig snap outside. Ashfeather lifted her head, frozen for a second, then peeked outside the log. A wolf looked back at her.
Ashfeather screamed, waking the others, and then she kicked at the wolf. It did no harm because her hooves weren't sharpened, and Mossfire leaped in front of her. The wolf struck Mossfire's wooded wings, sending a shock through the colt's body, but otherwise unharming him. The four foals flew past the tree, leaving the wolf behind. They flew over the trees, barely looking at their surroundings until they were sure that they had lost the predator. They landed on a bed of moss. "Where are we, Mossfire?" Ashfeather asked. Mossfire looked around.
"I don't know," he said. "We're lost."