He pockets a few of the empty shards to show the mages back in the Grove, fingers dusting debris and moss from shrines and lanterns as he goes. Hints of roadside guides from back when there was a road to travel. He wonders if repairing them would lure the little gods back here- or if the Woods are too strong, now.

He's not a craftsman though, so for now he just keeps going. The building is old. Old-old. As he approaches to investigate he finds himself watching his feet for fairy rings or other such traps. Just to be safe. He doesn't need his eyes to guide him to his goal after all. Just his nose.