Erria carried a woven basket a few steps ahead of me. The plants around us were wet with dew and the breeze brought with it a subtle chill. Erria bent down and I saw her pluck something from the ground. I stepped closer. It was a small, brown mushroom with a fat stem and a round cap.

“This one is a common browncap,” said Erria.

I gave a nod, immediately searching the leaf litter for the fungus. Apparently, it liked moist areas and would normally grow under trees. Well, it was some specific tree that it liked to grow under, but I didn’t remember the name of this tree or how it was supposed to look like for that matter. And anyway, wouldn’t remembering the tree description in addition to the mushroom just be more difficult?

I spotted a few brown mushrooms sticking out from a litter of damp branches and leaves.

“Erria!” I exclaimed, “is this it?”

Erria approached, holding the basket in front of her, the single brown mushroom resting inside. She peered at the spot that I was pointing at. Her eyes narrowed.

“No,” she said, “those are definitely not common browncaps.”

I kneeled, inspecting the details of these not-browncap-mushrooms, comparing them to the real common browncap that lay in Erria’s basket. They were the same shade of brown, the same rounded cap on a thick stem.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

Erria shook her head.

“They don’t look similar at all. Look.” She pointed to one of these imposters. “Their caps look a bit wet. I could be wrong, but I think these are, in fact, sweatcaps.”

I looked at the mushrooms on the ground again, and then at the common browncap in the basket. She was right; these mushrooms had a thin layer of clear mucus on the caps.

“Is that why they’re called sweatcaps?” I asked, “because they look like they’re sweating?”

“I don’t think so,” said Erria, “I think they are named after one of the symptoms you get after ingesting them. I’ve read somewhere that one person had accidentally put one of these in a soup once, and then sweated to death.”

I glanced at the mushrooms again. They had taken on a sinister feel, as if they were looking at me, mocking me, enticing me to eat them. I stood up, taking a step back from the mushroom patch, vowing to myself to never pick even a single mushroom without someone there to confirm my identification.

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Erria was already a few steps ahead and I hurried to catch up to her. She bent over again, picking another mushroom, and then another one. I glanced around. Another brown mushroom had sprouted near a tall tree, just under a bush. I walked closer. The cap looked dry, not slimy.

“What about this one?”

Erria walked closer and kneeled, inspecting the mushroom.

“Yes, this one is a common browncap!” she said.

I smiled to myself, almost giddy. I bent down and tugged at the browncap, but it was firmly planted in the soil. So, I twisted it, something I’d seen Erria do. It came off easily with a satisfying spring to it. I placed it into the basket, and looked up. Erria was glancing somewhere behind her, a worried look on her face. I moved my head to see what she was looking at, but before I could spot it, Erria sprung into action. She grabbed my arm and pulled me behind the bush with her. I landed on my side, hard branches poking into my flesh.

I looked up at her. She held a finger to her lips, gesturing at me to keep quiet. As if I’d say anything after being so hastily pulled into a hiding spot. I doubted she’d do something like that unless there was a good reason.

I stared through the thick bush, hoping to see what our threat was. I could see some movement through the gaps in the leaves. A quiet chatter echoed somewhere in the distance.

I slowly moved myself off the hard branches. If we were going to hide here for long, I wanted to be comfortable. I pushed myself up with my hand, but something fluffy tickled at my fingers. I pulled my hand away instinctively and my eyes darted towards this thing. A dead bird lay on the ground. I’d just touched a dead bird. For a second, I’d wondered whether I was the one that squished it, but on further inspection, it looked to have been there for at least a few days now.

I glanced up at Erria, who seemed to recognise the look on my face. She bent her neck to look at what I’d just touched. Her facial expression changed, but not to one of disgust. Was it relief? Excitement?

She glanced through the twigs of the bush again, probably towards whatever we were hiding from, and then reached her arms over me, towards the bird. She closed her eyes. The bird started to twitch. I jerked back a little, away from the bird, but then forced myself to stay as still as possible as to not draw attention to us. The bird twitched a few more times, and then hopped onto its feet, as if it hadn’t been dead, just taking a nap.

The bird ruffled its wings a little before hopping a few times and taking off into flight. It headed towards the source of the chatter. A few shrieks echoed in the forest. I sat frozen behind the bush, confused. I glanced at Erria. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration. I stayed still, staring at her, until she let out a breath.

“Okay,” she said, “we should be safe enough now. They are probably not going to notice us.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The bandits.”

Erria stood up, brushing off her skirt. She picked up the basket and collected the mushrooms that were now scattered on the ground.

“You’re a necromancer?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, “that was a lucky find on your part. That bird should distract them for a while.”

I nodded, hoping that we’d come across a source of water soon so I could wash my hands.

“Anyway,” Erria continued, now holding the basket complete with the few mushrooms we’d managed to collect, “it’s best we head back home now. We can collect more mushrooms later.”

I stood up and brushed off my pants, following Erria back through the woods.