If one ventured deep enough into the dark forest, they would hear the sound of a flute. A haunting melody, twisting and turning in its chaotic yet beautiful dance. If one were to find the source, they would stumble upon a campfire, a graceful elf clothed in red beside it. Soon, the elf put down his flute.
"You like my new piece, Para?" The elf affectionately patted a golden bow leaning on a tree trunk beside him.
"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I'm just hungry," the bow replied.
"Paraclitus, you can't eat. You're a weapon." The elf took the bow and morphed it into a sword. "Perhaps a sharpening would be in order."
The sword sighed. Suddenly, a dance of lights appeared in the twilight sky.
The elf looked up. "That's the second time it's happened this evening."
"Maybe it's another angel..." the sword said.
"We haven't seen an angel for two weeks now."
"Still, we should check it out."
"I agree with Paraclitus," the flute said in a sleepy manner. 
"All right, all right." The elf pocketed the flute and slung the sword over his back. He then threw a couple more logs into the fire and set out towards the source of the lights.
"Wait!" The sword's warning abruptly stopped the elf. "What if it's a priest that is performing an important ritual and doesn't want to be disturbed?"
"It could be a necromancer masquerading as a priest. Remember that one time?..."
"Still!" The sword was defiant. "I don't feel like going out there any more."
"Me neither. But I don't want whatever's happening to offend Father Nature." The elf neared the source, his steps becoming lighter as they drew closer. "Who - or what - is out there, I am assuming it wants to kill us." The elf suddenly dropped to the ground, crouching. "Both of you. Quiet." 
As the elf finally reached the clearing, he stepped on a twig.