"Heat!" squeaked the mouse Cheep, balancing on her mousy mate's head to peer down into the brew. "Heat, heat, heat!"
"Feet!" complained mouse Chirrup, doing his best to keep his mate's hind paws out of his eyes and off his nose. "Feet, feet, feet!"
"Yeeeeeeeesssshhhh," Flicker sighed like a log crumbling to charcoal in a fireplace -- to Cheep, not to Chirrup, for whose problem she could do nothing. The spade-headed salamander adjusted her position at the base of the cauldron, and her golden glow grew stronger. Flame, her beloved, shifted farther away from her to keep the brew heating evenly.
The crows, Raven and Raptor, said nothing, nor did the mated Things With No Name in the hole in the tree, their eyes all agleam in the salamander-light. Nor did the Ghost Twins, Fade and Fright, who had left their chains elsewhere for the evening. The owls, Puff and Pinion, merely hootled to themselves quietly in the branches above the brew.
"Are we not yet done?" complained the she-werewolf Leaper, one paw over her nose. "The stuff is _foul_!"
"Silence!" howled back Lurker, her mate. (Not an easy thing to do, given the lack of an "o" in "silence".) "The moon rides high! The time is nigh... nay, NOW!"
He raised his arms.
"By Crow and Owl, for boon, we howl!
"By Things and Mice, we plead you thrice!
"By Wolf and Fire, grant our desire!
"By Fade and Fright, this Halloween Night!"
Immediately, an immense gout of flaming turmoil erupted from the midst of the eldritch brew. The mice went sprawling. The crows flapped into the air, squawking their excitement and alarm. The Things vanished into the depths of the tree. (Or perhaps they simply closed their glowing eyes. There's no knowing which.) The owls, being more sedate sorts, merely hootled more loudly. (Not terribly rude of them, given the general din.) The delighted Ghost Twins clapped soundlessly, hopping from foot to foot as slowly and translucently as the fog. And the salamanders, who of course cared nothing for fiery explosions except as a diversion -- and who, at any rate, were on the wrong end of the caldron to enjoy this one -- said nothing.
The flames subsided. The smoke cleared. The gathering settled, and the gleaming eyes of the Things reappeared in the tree, blinking once or twice. (Which they rarely did, which just goes to show you their terribly agitated state.)
All at once, a great wind rose up from out of the west, carrying with it a storm of crisp leaves like the capering sprites of autumn. And behind them, sweeping wind and leave alike before her, flew the witch.
Disembarking from her broom witch-fashion beside the cauldron, she eyed them all silently with her canny witch eyes: werewolf and mouse, thing and ghost, owl and crow. (Well, not _all_. She'd have had to crouch to eye the salamanders, which would have been undignified for one of her age.)
Under her eyeing, the gathered creatures all looked to their feet. (Or whatever they had, in he case of the Things. And the salamanders, as I've said, were not eyed at all.)
The witch nodded her satisfaction. Then, like a ceremonious knight unsheathing his sword, she withdrew from her spidery robes a long, long wooden spoon. She bent over the cauldron with the pop of many a wizened joint -- which still was not so undignified as crouching -- and dipped the bowl of her spoon into the bubbling yellow-green broth. Then, keeping one eye on the assembly -- except for the salamanders, whose eyeing would still require crouching -- she sipped.
And straightened. (As straight as she _could_ stand, anyway).
And smiled. (As much as she _could_ smile, at any rate.)
"Excellent, dearies," she cackled, and handed over an orange-black card to Lurker. "You're all invited again _this_ year."
So saying, she climbed astride her broom and rose witchily into the October sky. "Don't be late, dearies!" she called down to them. "And don't ye forget the brew!"
The other creatures gathered around excitedly to look at the invitation -- even the Things. None of them complained that the werewolves always got to carry the invitation, because after all, they were _all_ on it.
And besides, the werewolves _also_ got to carry the brew.
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