so sharpen your teeth

Finding these little mushrooms was better than finding endless riches. Psilocybin was exceedingly rare, but it was exactly what he needed today. The male carefully harvested a single one, knowing full well that it was all he needed. In this new land, he needed to know if the spirits approved of his decision to remain here before he truly settled. If they didn't approve, he would be forced to continue his journey across the world in search of a suitable locale to rest his bones. Far from the place where his mother had cast him out, and farther yet from the crowds that seemed to swarm in an habitable areas.

The tiny fungus rested on his tongue, carefully caged by ivory fangs. He would return here at a later date to collect more, once he had found a suitable place to make himself comfortable. A trade hub, and an altar to the dead. These were tantamount. Picking his way through the swamp, he sought out a reasonably dry place in which to ascend to the other realm and consult the spirits. Forcing the soul from the mortal coil was exceedingly difficult, and he rarely got far enough to truly consult. Only whispers and hints from the dead, more often than not. But they were good enough.

Settling between the widespread roots of a tree, the male sucked in a deep breath. He began to work the tiny brown mushroom between his back teeth, grinding it into mush. "qul li 'arwah la tahda, ghyr muqayadat waghayr muqayadat, huna walan; laqad aikhtarat alsahih, litastaqira fi hadha almajal?" he crooned, attention focused on something in the middle ground. The paste of the mushroom slipped down his throat, and he settled in to hear the spirits' reply.

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