Betula, using her knowledge of the forest learned from her forays with her father, leads her small band off the beaten path, skirting east of Nottingham and St. Alban's Well before heading South and avoiding main roads except to cross them. Strangely focused on the path she leads them on, taciturn, she keeps a surprisingly hard pace. When she knows they are past St. Alban's Well and hitting a part of the forest she does not know except as tales, her father never cut wood here, at least not since she was born, she stops suddenly. In Latin, In English, "Turold, Ruedi, we camp. Tomorrow we seek Nyliya."
In the morning, she wakes shortly before the sun, take a moment to center herself before performing her Parma Magica and then begins cutting a thick strip from the bottom of her wool skirt, all the way around and is nearly complete when the others wake. "Breakfast" she says in English now knowing something so basic they both will understand and after eating she prepares them. Each standing on either side of her, "Make sure when I stop I am pointed in this direction," encompassing the whole south in her outstretched arms, east and west. With the strip of cloth she fully covers her eyes, doubling up and making sure not even any light can get through. She then begins spinning slowly at first then faster, getting slightly dizzy and then slows to a stop in a mostly random direction and starts dizzily walking, arms outstretch so she doesn't run into a tree with her face, when she touches a tree she changes direction until touching another tree and changing direction again in no discernible order. "Follow me," she says. and keeps hiking like this for quite a while.