The birds followed xir like a storm of feathers, from magpies to falcons to blue jays and owls, the storm cloud of feathers and beaks and razor sharp talons was always there, even though no one else ever seemed to see it. Xe was the only one who seemed to see them, but xe left seed out for them every morning anyway, even if they turned out not to be birds at all.

The great willows and oaks sang an ancient, elderling song as the Fair Folk and Elves made their passage, their pilgrimage, through the forest. They came through once every one hundred years, and every time even those with little magical talent could hear as the trees and the very earth below their feet sang songs of joyous tune as response to their arrival.

It was only xe and xir companions who noticed something was awry with the party they’d been invited to, as they all watched from the sidelines and the rest of the party goers sang and danced and drank to a song from a spectral band. It was then that xe noticed the state of the ballroom; decaying, dust covered, and covered in cobwebs. And once the illusion faded, xe saw it all for what it truly was.