To be fair, there weren’t any other mushrooms either. Or spiders. Or tiny crustaceans. Or worms. The soil here sucked.

Uuuup he went! A ghost-like white thread carefully reached out to hold on to one of Eight’s fingers, just in case anything startling took place. A quiet voice was not that, so thank you.

The mushroom gave a negative shake of its cap. Not a pool shroom. How unfortunate would that have been, when the pool was full of poison?