She hesitated. Given their present proximity, deliberately moving away from Hasa would only alert Jack to her disquiet. So, doing her best to ignore the husky, shameless presence beside her, she did as she was told, leaning forward until her mouth was almost touching several of the coiled black strands.
“Which . . . way . . . to . . . town?” As she mouthed each word slowly and deliberately, she saw what appeared to be very fine hairs lining several tendrils quiver as if in a gentle breeze.
As soon as she finished and straightened, every one of the dozens of slender tendrils dropped flat against the wood they were slowly decomposing. Flat and pointed in the direction of the center of Taulau.
Hasa rose triumphantly from his crouch. “Don’t know why the pannula never made direct contact with the Sakuntala. Maybe their smell, maybe something else. Sakuntala don’t know, either. Same goes for the Deyzara. Another mystery for the mycologists to resolve.” He gazed paternally down at the tendrils, which had begun to rise skyward again.
“I’m gonna call it Xenoarmillaria fluva hasselemoga.” He eyed her husband. “Jack says the naming of it is mine by right. Ain’t that right, Jack?”
“Xenoarmillaria fluva would be taxonomically easier,” the scientist replied.
“Nope. Xenoarmillaria fluva hasselemoga it is. Unless you or one of your squinty-eyes is gonna argue about it.”
“No.” Jack sighed good-naturedly “As you are the discoverer, it’s yours to name.”
Lauren had turned to inspect the handsome reddish-purple basidiocarps emerging from a nearby fallen trunk. “What about input from your companions on your difficult journey to the village where you were finally picked up?”