“Please, my tall friend, you must see what is happening here! The human is so enamored of his supposed discovery that it has bemused his brain. There is more fog in his thoughts than in the forest. Having made what he thinks to be a great discovery, he has become blinded by it. He believes because he wants to believe. This, I do happen to know, is not an unusual occurrence among his kind. I have read of it.”
That made more sense to Jemunu-jah than anything else the Deyzara had said. He crouched back down on his haunches. As if to help confirm Masurathoo’s words, farther up the hollow sokulaa the human continued to play with the dancing rhizomorphs, oblivious to the conversation and conference that was taking place among his companions.
“Very well. I open to discussion of your beloved possibilities,” he muttered. “What suggestions you have?”
“Just this.” Masurathoo spared a goggle-eyed glance past the Sakuntala to make absolutely certain the human was not listening. “Today we will follow his lead and that of his beloved fungus. But if we encounter nothing save more of the same, then tonight we will arise well before morning and set off on our own, resuming our original course due east instead of this new track to the north.”
“What if we have already miss the village?”
The Deyzara rolled both eyes back into his head, a disconcerting sight at the best of times. “Then we are already dead, and I will never see my family again.”
Jemunu-jah gestured understandingly, with ears as well as hands. His tail flicked methodically from side to side. “The human is attuned to the forest. He sleeps lightly.”