Mossfire tore out of the Trap with more speed than he had ever shown before. It was exhilarating. The wind on his face, and the clouds in his mossy mane. He flew over the trap and Snow Herd territory, with his herdmates trailing behind him, grasping his tail to keep up. He landed in the Vein, calling out to his relatives. A dozen pegasi leaped out of the trees. Some had plants growing instead of a coat, and others had tree branches sticking out of their mane, like antlers. Still more carried wooden legs, and some more had branches curling around themselves. They all saw Mossfire's mossy mane and his wooden wings. They followed him into the air without a word. He looked back, saying to his herdmates, "Isn't this great?" but he didn't see them anywhere. Just then, they passed over Snow Herd territory, and he saw three small figures the colors of his friends cornered by Snow Herd steeds. Mossfire dropped down, leaving his kin to finish the journey alone. "I'm coming!" he called and used his hard wings to knock the warriors back. He took his friends into the sky with him, and this time, they kept pace. The four steeds landed in a clearing, where the other tree-pegasi were grazing. Mossfire looked around him, at the wooden pegasi, at the Snow Herd fillies, and he realized. He had a herd. "We are Forest Herd," he announced, and no one objected.

Mossfire, Ashfeather, Stormflight, and Graystripe balked at the sight of the wooden steed. They turned, ready to run, but the pegasus didn't move. Finally, Ashfeather relaxed. "It's a statue," she said. The others turned back. Mossfire stepped closer. He exchanged breath with the stallion. "What is he doing?" Stormflight whispered to the other Snow Herd foals. "I don't know," Graystripe whispered back. They watched the wooden-winged pegasus traipse around the statue. Suddenly, the statue moved toward Mossfire. Even he couldn't help but paw at the ground in surprise. The statue, or wooden stallion, or whatever it was, opened its mouth and began to speak. "I am Treewing," the stallion said. "You are my colt," he said, addressing Mossfire. "I-I am?" Mossfire asked. "Yes," Treewing answered. "You will find all of my descendants in the Vein, and bring them here." Mossfire didn't seem surprised that there were more of his kind. He nodded, and, at once, took off, pulling the Snow Herd foals behind him.

The four weanlings looked around, bewildered. "What are we going to do?" Ashfeather said. Stormflight and Graystripe flew up, looking for something, but it was just trees all around. Mossfire looked around. "Follow me," he said. "I have an idea. I can call on my sire." The Snow Herd foals looked at each other in astonishment. "Are you crazy?" Stormflight asked, not a trace of humor lingering. "No," Mossfire answered. "I think the Trap will help us." The others still gawked at the wood-winged foal, sired by none other than the Trap itself. No pegasus of the Herds in their right mind would follow this steed. But then Ashfeather remembered that they, having been banished, were no longer of the Five Herds. "We have no choice, do we," Ashfeather said. There was no question there. Mossfire started to traipse deeper into the woods, following what seemed like a whim "What are you doing?" Graystripe asked. "Following the glowing moss," Mossfire answered calmly. "What!?" The three foals exclaimed in unison. "Don't you see?" Mossfire asked. He pointed to an almost invisible trail of the luminescent moss. "It will lead me to my sire." The Snow Herd foals followed Mossfire with hesitation. Soon, their legs grew tired, and they longed to fly, but couldn't. Mossfire determinately led the group, until he stopped at a clearing. "We're here," Mossfire said with confidence. The Snow Herd steeds looked closer, squinting until they could make out what Mossfire saw. There, in the center of the clearing, stood a wooden pegasus.