Jemunu-jah regarded the bobbing and weaving of the silent rhizomorphs. “Such plant movements are defensive in nature, or a response to the absence or addition of light. This is different. And what about the lying down of every rhizomorph we have encountered in same direction?”
“I am willing to admit that action does continue to puzzle me. It does not mean, however, that it represents an awareness of our presence coupled with a conscious desire to provide assistance.”
“We will learn truth if they point us to village,” Jemunu-jah observed sensibly.
“How much longer can we afford to continue that enticing experiment?” Reaching down, the Deyzara picked up his food pouch and shoved it open and unsealed in the Sakuntala’s direction. “You see how little real food remains to me. I believe your supplies and those of the human are in a similarly deficient state. Perhaps you can survive on what edible substances the forest can provide. Possibly the human can as well; I am not intimately familiar with the nutritional requirements of his kind. I only know that I cannot.
“Furthermore, every muscle and tendon in my body aches, I am stiff and sore all over, and I feel as if my entire corpus could collapse in a paralyzed heap at any moment. Even my integument is sore.”
Jemunu-jah considered. “I have bruises and scrapes myself. Enough for several families.”
Masurathoo immediately seized on the Sakuntala’s admission. “Our bodies are in sympathy then, if not yet our thoughts.” Leaning close and reaching up with his speaking trunk, he placed the end as close as he could to one of the Sakuntala’s ears. “We must do something to change our situation, or we risk throwing away our lives because we relied on a fungus for survival. And there is still another possibility to consider.”