The human replied while continuing to play touchy-feely with the inquiring rhizomorphs. Nearby, ghostly white mycelium had begun to infiltrate the body of the dead herbivore.
“How can you be so sure about that, Jemunu-jah? Have your people ever dug one up? Not part of one, but a whole one, to see how far the spawn and the hyphae actually extend?”
The Sakuntala’s snout twitched. “Why would anyone want to do such a thing? All pannula taste bad. Probably this kind also. Stringy stuff in trees and wood probably tastes worse. Be a big waste of time and energy.”
Hasa nodded. Opposite him, black tendrils bobbed in mime. “Probably just as well no one ever tried it with one of these. The pannula in question might have taken offense.” He was studying the weaving tendrils intently. “We’ve already seen what it can do when it takes offense.”
Masurathoo badly wanted to sit down and rest but could not quite bring himself to do so. The image of sharp, piercing white filaments painlessly penetrating his backside and then rapidly expanding to infest and rot his entire body from the inside out was one he could not shake.
“I daresay that you are trying to make a point, Hasa, but I fear to confess that it continues to escape me.”
“Locating, identifying, and finding uses for these kinds of growths are my business, finger-face. I’m thinking that maybe these pannula are analogous to similar fungal organisms on Earth. Very large organisms. In fact, they’re the biggest living things on the home world of my species.”