"Oh, we got ones like that at home." Mercy grins. "They're more yellow with brown spots, though. I seen Grannie squirreling them away for the little afternoon constitutionals she takes down at the pond some days. Went after her once and found her grinning and floating 10-foot off the ground. Wouldn't let me have none of it, though." The young woman sticks out her tongue and scrunches up her face momentarily. "Said it was for old folks who needed a little feather in their step."

She reaches down to pluck one of the mushrooms. "I'll keep it separate. Wouldn't mind knowing what it feels like. And maybe it'll help in my potion-making. Still trying to refine that sleep-aid I been working at. Reckon this'd help with relaxing."