The faster you ran the further you got and the quieter the sounds of those singing toads got. It hadn't been easy to slip away and wouldn't be easy to stay away if you slowed down. A forced marriage and life singing and dancing on stage wasn't what you had set out for. Blades of grass towered over you and the dusk brought with it the sound of crickets and and a rapidly darkening sky. It was impossible to see where home was from down here. Height was needed and height was exactly what you lacked. No bigger than the flower faeries you would see in children's books and a lack of wings made life on this farm difficult. Even insects could be dangerous. Climbing over a massive twig to try and gain a better view of what direction home was in. Even on your toes, it was difficult to see over the grass. Not that you stayed there for long. Buzzing and frantic shouting breaking up the songs of the crickets, and a hard force knocked you off of the twig. A man shouting as he hit you, the angry buzzing of a… bee? Echoing him. Only a short distance away from where you hit the ground a man was already complaining. “Does no one think to stay off of race tracks nowadays?!” The man grumbled, a pained groan leaving him as he pushed himself up. Rushing to check on his bee amidst his upset rant. “Its so clearly marked and everyone knows that night is the best time for practice, but why would you-” His words died in his throat as he turned to face you. Locking in immediately on the lack of wings as his own golden ones gave a small flutter. “...care about that.”