Lichen internally found herself grateful that there was something at the base that slowed the fruit's fall even further. Even if she hadn't known it was the top of Aurelle's head. But that was enough for at least a little coin, wasn't it? Truthfully, she didn't remember.
Claws made a skittering noise as she slumped back down to four sturdy legs, waiting for Aurelle's news on what she could find. Yet after a long moment without answer, Lichen slowly asks, "did it work?"
She wasn't sure if her own magic could help, if only she had a way to tap into something that wasn't mycelial, maybe a way to see moss and trees, that'd make it easier to find fruits. Unless the root network would speak to her. They'd shared one sided conversations before, but maybe if she was more patient with it..
The more she tried the longer nothing happened, or so she thought. It wasn't until an overwhelming flash of the senses struck her that she'd realised she'd done anything at all. Colour, light, noises, high pitched noises of a million organisms talking and sending information to eachother all at once. It felt as if she'd spent her entire life in a dark room, devoid of sound, taste, touch and smell, then suddenly dropped into a party with millions of participants. It was sheer overload, it was too much. It hurt.
There was no information she could gleem from any of it, as if all those millions of voices had screamed all at once at her, while simultaneously shovelling tasters into her mouth, under her nose and showing her a million different pictures.
Lichen reels backwards, lurching as if she'd been struck by something, almost falling over her own legs in an attempt to flee. Which was enough to break the focus, leaving her plunged back into her nothingness. Trembling, pained, but alive. The throbbing in her head was painful, and her ears rung, even her feelers coiled away back into her nostrils, in an attempt to slow the amount of stimulation happening all at once.