Things moved in these woods, things most mortal eyes rarely saw. Lost spirits, confusing fae, travelers who wandered a little too far and forgot how to leave... Most of the souls who wandered here did so unwillingly. Phrixus was, in that sense, no different.
He dug his claws into the loam and dipped his head down for a better look. Little threads of gold had turned up once or twice from what he remembered, but he had no idea where they had come from. Likely a trick from some little pixie, trying to lead someone back to some seelie party.
He shook his head and breathed. There were other new things as well. New opportunities, perhaps. He should find them.