Mycellium looked up at the harsh iron wall. A puzzle of this nature would require tact and finesse. Mycellium had neither, and so he dealt with it the only way he could figure. Quickly he began spitting clouds of spores all about, lining the metallic forest with fresh fungus. If this didn't get the attention of the natives, nothing would. Though that wasn't Mycellium's intention. No, he simply needed to pass, and it just so happened that spreading more of the fungus, his only purpose in life, could possibly assist.