Although Toedscool are known for racing across Paldea and climbing over walls, their evolved form of Toedscruel can only be found in remote forests, where colonies of these pokemon avoid all contact with humanity. Researchers have struggled mightily to gain access to these pokemon, leaving urban myths and horror writers to fill the gaps.
As the story goes, solitary travelers are lured by the sight of gold gleaming in the distance. The gold – in truth, a Toedscruel's foot – is always moving just out of reach, never too far away to give up, or even to stop and take a break. The human, or in some versions a Gimmighoul, chases the promise of wealth, oblivious that they are following them deeper and deeper into the forest. In time, they inevitably collapse from exhaustion, at which point, the tale claims, the Toedscruel colony feasts on their nutrients.
There is no good reason to believe, however, that Toedscruel are particularly dangerous by the standards of fully evolved wild pokemon, still less that they are anthropophagic; most likely, they are extremely shy. And the fact that, for all their power, they remain highly edible mushrooms, considered a scavenging delicacy by both ancient accounts and modern foragers, goes a long way to explaining their shyness.
Humans fear what they do not understand, and they fear it all the more when it is atop something they want, or erroneously believe they do. When exhausted gold seekers did catch up to Toedscruel (as occasionally occurred, contrary to the myth), the encounter was rarely pleasant for the latter pokemon, which further reinforced their habit of isolation. Gimmighoul themselves, when not seeking Toedscruel 'gold', have had quite an unpleasant experience in the Age of Nuggets, but that is a story for another entry.