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.
Underneath the silver light of the full moon, the haggard coven met in secret. Ragged robes, dirty clothing, they prayed in silence for their lost brothers and sisters. To their deities they prayed, for forgiveness, for safety, and for aid in their upcoming struggle. Underneath that pale moonlight, the coven made a pact. Their deities at their sides like sharpened weapons, their magic roiling in their blood, they swore to right the wrongs done against them.
The merfolk always sang a special tune for the pirate whose deeds xe would always remember, freeing xe from a tank that had been hauled ashore. Whenever that pirate sailed through the cove, ze made sure to step out to the deck and say hello to the crew mate ze would never have aboard.
The greater demon hunched over the small, frilly pink table with xir claws desperately trying to keep a hold on the dainty teacup, trying to keep it steady as to not spill its contents. The child before xe beamed at the demon, handing xe another slice of cake. “Thank you for coming to my party!” ze cheered, not minding the curling horns, the lashing tail, or the ragged wings zir guest had in the cramped playroom.