The days grew longer, and the nights grew shorter. Patchfeather, Dragonfrost, and Smokemoon kept busy keeping track of Coldfire. He hadn't done anything out of the ordinary for weeks, and there hadn't been any more bear sightings either.

Patchfeather was getting inpatient, and Dragonfrost still wanted proof.

Then one day, about two weeks before Snow Herd was planning to migrate, Patchfeather woke up coughing. She looked and saw the sun was reddish haze meaning smoke was blocking it.

Patchfeather flew up above the tree line to try to pinpoint where the smoke was coming form. Then she saw the fire, it was less then a mile or so from the herd and traveling fast.

Patchfeather flew back to the herd, "Smokemoon!!! Dragonfrost!!!" she yelled.

"Ugh... Patchfeather it's to early to get up." said Dragonfrost, groggily.

"Wake up." Patchfeather shoved Dragonfrost, "There's a fire headed straight for the herd!"

This got Dragonfrost's attention, "What!?!" he exclaimed.

"Come on, we have to wake the rest of the herd!"

While Dragonfrost stayed to wake up Smokemoon, Patchfeather ran around waking up as many steeds a she could, but by this point most of them had waken up on their own.

Icewing trumpeted for his herd to fallow him. Everyone was awake by now and fallowed Icewing either flying or walking as fast as they could away from the flames.

Patchfeather looked back as the place where Snow Herd had been was engulfed in flames.

"Snow Herd, we must save the grazing land!!" yelled Icewing, as he landed near a river. He scooped water up with his wings and walked as fast as he could back to the flames.

Many other steeds fallowed Icewing's example. Soon all of them that could hold water in their wings were carrying water to the flames. But It wasn't enough, every time a steed dumped water on the fire, something else would start to burn.

Patchfeather grew tired, so had many other steeds, but the fire kept getting larger. Finally Icewing told Snow Herd to stop. He ordered the walkers into the river, and those how could fly to go up as far as they could.

The fire raged on for hours, but could not cross the river, then finally in late afternoon the flames had died down enough that it was safe to land again.

Patchfeather landed near the spot she had slept the night before, the ground was covered in ashes, nearby trees were nothing but burned stumps, there was nothing left. Nothing except several thousand tired and hungry Snow Herd steeds.