Note: This was inspired by, and will quote, Nik Kershaw's song 'The Riddle'.

Hazel was most concerned. Woundwort's Wide Patrols were getting closer to the warren, posing much greater risk to the warren. He had called a meeting in the Honeycomb to discuss the best way of overcoming this issue. The current solution that had the most promise was to lure the patrols away from the warren.

"It's not going to keep them off our trail forever," He remarked, "But it will give us more time to consider more effective measures."

"It looks like our only option." Bigwig mused.

"Very well. Let us see if we get hrair in favour to none against. All who agree to lead the Efrafans away?" Several raised their paws. "All who disagree?" All of a sudden Fiver's paw shot up as though an invisible thread attached to it had been given a hard pull. "Fiver? Why do you disagree?" Fiver shuddered, staring into space. Hazel knew what that meant. "What is it, Fiver?" He asked as he hopped over to his sibling. The prophecy was then spoken.

"Near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground where an old man of Arran goes around and round." Fiver chanted.

"What in Frith's name are you on about, lad?" Bigwig inquired with bewilderment.

"That is where we shall find a solution." Fiver deduced. "There's a hole somewhere under a tree near a river. We'll know it is the right one because a pale man will be wandering nearby."

"That's where we'll need to go then." Hazel determined.