The forest floor cracked softly beneath his boots as Fool’s Gold moved through the trees. Dead leaves and soil shifted at his passing, veins of mineral glinting faintly where the ground strained to obey him. The air smelled of damp earth and rot.. familiar, comforting. Rich with promise. He paused beside a massive, hollowed trunk, gloved fingers brushing its bark as if testing its worth. Too fragile. Too empty. Like most things. His gaze lifted, sharp and assessing, already mapping the terrain in his mind, roots that could give way, slopes that would crumble under the wrong step. Then.. A disturbance. Not a sound. Not a footprint. Just the unmistakable sense of presence brushing the corner of his vision. He stopped. For a long moment, he didn’t turn. Instead, his heel pressed into the soil, feeling the subtle tension beneath it, the forest floor responding with a barely-there tremor. Slowly, Fool’s Gold angled his head toward the trees, eyes narrowing at a shadow that didn’t quite belong.

“…Hmph.”

A low, humorless sound escaped him. The ground around him pulsed faintly, gold flashing between roots as he finally faced the disturbance, expression unreadable, save for the glint of anticipation in his eyes. Whatever had caught his attention had already made one mistake. The forest was listening.