Masurathoo’s breathing trunk twitched. “Those may have been examples of similar but different species.” He gestured with a flexible arm. “They lie two days’ trek behind us. This is a different gathering of growths, in an entirely new location.” He indicated the attractive purple-reddish fruiting bodies that sprouted from dead wood nearby. “These are other pannula. Surely you are not claiming an ability for different individual growths to communicate over distance in addition to some kind of fungal consciousness?”
“I wonder if different growths are involved.”
As Hasa spoke, two of the questing tendrils took the opportunity to slip inside his open mouth. Jemunu-jah tensed. The rhizomorphs investigated for a few seconds, tickling Hasa’s palate, tongue, and the insides of his cheeks before withdrawing. Finished their exploration, he wondered, or found the human oral environment not to their liking?
“Please not to take offense, sir, but you are not making any sense.”
Fascinated, Hasa raised his right hand and spread his fingers wide. Questing rhizomorphs immediately rose to match the gesture, one or two tendrils making contact with each of his elevated fingertips.
“To rise this far above the wood it’s emerging from,” he said as he moved his hand slowly from side to side, “this easily and effectively, these rhizomorphs must be supported by a much larger mass buried deep within the host tree or, more likely, in the ground itself.”
Jemunu-jah gestured downward. “There no ground here, Hasa. Ground here is many kel below top of the water. Pannula lives in trees and deadwood, not ground. Leastways, all pannula I know.”