The Proving of Champions, Chapter 18

Terrell and Daralis hastily guided the colony to the weathered green flaps of the high skald’s tent. Despite its lack of eyes, the colony made its away across the netting and through the passage between soldiers without stumbling or drifting off course.  Terrell, Daralis, Marina, Betram, and Fleta clumped in a half circle in one end of the tent, staring at the mushroom as the lamp light flickered across its pale stock and sunk into the warm orange of its cap. A breeze rustled the tent before anyone spoke. The narrow gash of the fungus’s temporary mouth closed over like an old wound, and two, pitted semi-circles sprouted on the sides of its head, vaguely suggestive of ears.

"Welcome," said Terrell, drawing himself up as though speaking to the skald of another order or town alderman. One with eyes. "What may we call you?"

The ears melted back into the stalk, replaced again by a mouth. "Call us welcome, it is good to be welcome," grunted the colony. Daralis, covered her mouth, her eyes pinched with laughter. The colonies voice was an clumsy imitation of a human voice, opposite Terrell’s deep and precise, stage-worthy bass in almost every way but pitch.

"I meant to say,” Terrell continued.  “What is your name?"

"The designations of this us?" The mushroom paused. "We prefer the beasts who talk not use them."

Terrell looked at Daralis, who shrugged. "It didn't come up,” Daralis whispered. “They tend to speak as a collective, and I think he assumed that we did to."

Ever bull-headed, Terrell pressed the issue. "It would be much easier if we had a... designation for you."

"All of my designation are... rude. The least rude is Beast Curiosity." This time, Fleta laughed, and Terrell gave her a stern side eye.

"We would hate to be rude to an important guest. What would you like your designation to be then?"

"This us can designate ourselves?" The colony paused. "Call me Peace with Beasts."

Terrell whispered to Daralis. "By beasts, I gather he is referring to us?"

Daralis nodded.

"Would Peace with Others suffice as a designation for you?"

"May it thrive."

Terrell paused, then moved on. "Peace with Others, what brings you to our camp?"

"The beasts who talk--is this not the designation, is the custom to designate ourselves? Others, self-designated?" Peace with Others changed his mouth for ears, but when the confused Marble Halls leaders did not answer, the ears melted and the stalk split into a mouth again. "Others are not like beasts. Others are other beasts. Peace with Others desires to learn. Peace with others desires the greatest of all beasts to be returned to the soil. Peace with Others desires to know where is on the other side of the bramble arch. These things above all others grow us to this point."

"Is this the desire of all the colonies?" Terrell asked. "Or the desire of the... most connected?"

The colony did not speak, or even change to a mouth for a long minute. "This is the perverse desire of only this colony. I am... disconnected."

"You were disconnected... for us?"

"The desire for disconnection of Beast Curiosity has been growing for many seasons in the colonies. The desire for... investigation and exploration has been growing in this us for many seasons. The two could not grow together, so they must grow apart."

"We are honored by your consideration and happy to receive you. We would be delighted to share our knowledge with you, and take you to our lands, if you would like to come." Terrell used a formal voice that carried out of the tent, sparking murmurs from the camp. "But you will understand if killing the greatest of all beasts is our priority."

"Yes, if we are to share soil, we must remove this weed first." Peace with Others made a ripping motion with its right tendril stalk.