The mushroom men marched in single file along the
switchback, the same path they took every year during their migration. The
settlements along their route stayed indoors while the column passed through
their greens. The fungus people tolerated no interference from the other races
and wouldn’t hesitate to strike out at anyone they perceived as impeding their
journey. The tall, grey-limbed tribe loped along in a silence that was only
broken when confronting a threat. At that time the whole line opened their twin
mouths and released a piercing screech that sent spikes of pain through the
mammals of Void.
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