The sound was as sweet as the chime of honey against Earth. It wound its way through the entire workings of whoever dared open ear and mind. The crippled whims of fallen soldiers would seem satisfied to their bloodless faces, were they in range of the three notes, dancing along each hand and leaf, up towards every top and down along each precipitous drop of man and land alike.
It was the sound of Dreyma. Singing her sweet Fae song. Gaining power with every piece of any named being foolish enough to pay her song attention. It would be the end for them, if they were not careful. Most of the land knew better; it being built upon raw instinct, the feeling of life draining away usually turned it from her. Occasionally, a petal would fall in her name. Those were colorful days for Dreyma. She liked them best.
Well. Nearly best. Tricking a large group of travellers usually left her with many oddities with which to decorate her hidden home.
Ah! Here came one now…