Doon wasn't quite sure if this had been the same forest he'd visited and was trying to get back to. Earlier he'd come up from the south but had since meandered a wide and almost circular route to the north and east. It sure felt right to him though, the same thrill came through him as he'd felt before and the air smelled similar though he didn't lean on that sense much, he wasn't sure where he'd be coming back to or even how large the area was and the air could deceive him.
Finding a river Doon decided to follow it upstream into the foothills of the distant mountain range, it still baffled him how there could be so much water in one place and felt better with so much water nearby. It wasn't long though before the river turned violent as Doon got nearer to it's source the land became rougher and the twists and turns and narrowness of the river began to form some serious rapids. Doon came to a bend in the river that was so white and violent and the shore so steep that he was afraid if he tried to drink he'd be dragged away and his soul would forever wander the river, never able to find rest. As it was Doon decided to give the river it's space in the interest of staying alive.
The bend here did remind a bit of a goose neck, the water as white as it was and bent as it was. Doon tilted his head to get a better perspective, he'd only seen the plump white birds once or twice where he'd come from but had since seen them quite often after coming north.