Zagreus, for outsiders, is all about singularity of purpose—about finding out what you are. If you get distracted, the distractions get more and more extreme in an effort to tease out where your actual, fundamental priority lies. Once, I saw a whole group of visitors from Lindholm chased down by a tiger and torn apart because they couldn’t decide whether to cooperate or save themselves—socialisation versus individual need. Zagreus had to pay a lot of compensation for that one, supply bodies and a pleasure dome and all kinds of recompense, and by the time they left they were promising to come back again soon. Zagreus promised that next time, they could be tigers, and I think that pretty much guaranteed they’d never return—unless they’re here, now, in the grass. Perhaps one or two of them never entirely left.