Bella leaves the Heavenly Fields behind, meandering down the path with carefully placed steps then heads south. She doesn't know it's south, however, nor does she know that she's finally heading in the direction she's needed to this entire time in order to head home to the Throat. This far north, and with such poor sense of direction, she hadn't the slightest clue where to go. At this point she's been wandering so long she's been away from home for nearly half a year. Would anyone honestly even recognize her? Frankly, probably not. Not unless father was there again or if mamae had gone back. But in her heart, she wanted to at least try and return - for how long depends entirely on several different factors; most of which she doesn't really want to think about right now.

So she doesn't.

Instead she continues her journey south; wandering through forests of varying thicknesses, past places heavy with the aromas of many. Ultimately, as the sun begins to set, Bella starts to look for a place to rest; goodness knows she can continue in the morning (assuming she doesn't wake up and forget which direction she was headed). To her rather pleasant surprise, the sandy girl stumbles upon a wide yet gentle river amidst a field with pretty violet flowers and tall grasses. A few large trees dot the meadow but they aren't really the focal point - they really aren't much different from the thousands of other trees she'd passed by earlier that day. Bella's own green gaze is pulled, instead, towards the river but she isn't quite sure why it draws her attention so.

The yearling moves to stand on the river bank, mentally immersing herself in this particular atmosphere. The trickling sound of the water flowing downstream, the sounds of the crickets, and the oncoming darkness settling in over her like a cozy blanket all leave the girl relaxed and mere moments from drifting off to sleep where she stands. As she relaxes, she cocks a hip, her long lashed lids slowly closing over her warm, earthly hued eyes. Sleep comes more easily this time, no frightening beasts with gleaming fangs and bloodied jaws to interrupt her. For now Bella is at ease, her silky silver hair shifting with the gentle breezes blowing through, her wings tucked against her sides in a makeshift blanket (for comfort more than warmth).

But sleeping alone out in the middle of nowhere can be quite dangerous, especially for a yearling that doesn't know how to fly. Would she be rescued or would she be terrorized? Perhaps we'll never know.