Solomon was quite willing to move past the awkward moment with theory. "True," he said. "Do animals dream? Do they dream with enough substance to reach another dimension in doing so? Some, perhaps, but I would not have said so of most."

He took a step and felt the spongy ground give way beneath his feet. It was mostly the moss, he was sure, though not entirely. Perhaps it was the Dreaming too.

"I can't feel much at all," he admitted. "My strength is not in sensing magic alone--simply magic in a natural occurrence. There is no death here." There was no death in Dreaming, after all. Nothing truly died in dreams. Experimentally Solomon attempted to draw up shadows and pressed his hand to the mushroom's side, and watched it shrivel exactly where his palm was.