In a quiet house sat a silent girl whose parents were not yet home from work, and in fact, would not be home for many hours. The little girl was situated at the dinner table, a tiny cake covered in raspberry cream and dark red cherries before her.

It was her birthday, and she was alone.

Fork in the air, she was about to pierce the tiny cake, when there was a soft knock on the door. The little girl dropped her fork down with a clatter, and went to the door. Perhaps her parents had been able to return home early?

The little girl, too small to reach the door’s peephole, called out, “Hello? Who is it?”

“It is Panther,” came the muffled, feminine reply.

“I don’t know any panthers,” the little girl said, spirits beginning to droop.

“I’ve come for a birthday party,” Panther said.

“Truly?” The little girl’s eyes lit up.

“Indeed.”

The little girl opened the door.

“Oh!” she cried out, “You are Panther!”

On the little girl’s doorstep stood a magnificent coal black cat, tail waving through the air in a lazy undulation.

“We must be off, Dragon is an impatient sort,” Panther turned, and crouched down, “Hop on.”

The little girl scrambled onto Panther’s back, and they were off. In one leap they left the houses behind, and dashed through warm evening air. Panther continued leaping, and her paws touched only air. The homes below turned into the greater city, glowing gold and shining. The little girl let out a wild shriek of joy.

“Panther! Panther, thank you!” she called out.

At that moment, if Panther had taken her home, the little girl would have been content. But they continued onward. Soon, the ocean came into view, an expanse of deep darkness with the occasional dot of a ship’s light. They descended, and the little girl breathed in the salty, moist air. Panther landed on the beach, sand spraying.

“Dragon, we’re here!” Panther called out.

The little girl slid off Panther’s back and walked towards a crackling fire pit.

“Hello, Dragon,” the little girl said.

Dragon was the biggest being the little girl had ever seen. He sat in front of the fire, warming his scale covered nose.

“Happy birthday,” Dragon’s voice made the little girl think of maple syrup.

“Thank you, Dragon!” the little girl said.

There was a splash.

“Ah, the selkies must be here.”

From the waves a crowd emerged, slick with salt water. They wore clothes sewn from seaweed and strands of pearls, and decorated with coral and stones the color of the daytime sky. A group of the selkies sat down near the fire, setting down unfamiliar implements, instruments native to their underwater realm.

The musicians began playing a cheerful tune, and the selkies whisked the little girl off to dance. They laughed and twirled her around, placing their beautiful pearls, coral, and gems around her neck and wrists. A ring was placed upon her finger and a heavy crown studded with pearls of every shade placed upon her head. The pearl crown was a bit too big for the little girl, and it fell down to her forehead. But the crown was lined with velvet, and didn’t cause her pain.

When the little girl grew tired, they set her down near the fire, where Dragon and Panther had watched the merriment.

“Panther, Dragon!” the little girl was out of breath, “Oh, what fun that was!”

The selkies spoke in their language of the sea, and then waved at the little girl.

“Farewell,” she cried, “Farewell!” A few pressed kisses onto her moist forehead, and others set yet more jewels upon her.

The last selkie disappeared into the waves.

"We’ll be late if we don't’ go now,” Dragon said, “The mountain folk don’t have much patience.”

“Let’s be off, dear,” Panther crouched down for the little girl to get on her back.

The little girl got onto Panther’s back, more prepared this time for travel ahead.

They flew up in the air, the little girl’s pearls and gems clinking. This time, Dragon flew alongside them, his enormous wingspan whipping through the air. Once in a while, a scale of his would glint a beautiful shade of garnet or plum under the starlight.

They drew away from the ocean, and the glowing city lights came into view again. Soon those too faded into the distance again, and now dark jutting rocks littered the horizon, a mountain range given shape by the moonlight and stars.

Panther and Dragon landed on a bluff, on which there were several beings waiting there for them. They were the mountain folk. Soft cloaks of velvety leaves and flowers of all shapes and colors adorned them. Their faces were lined, but their eyes energetic.

“Happy birthday, little one,” one of the folk, their leader, stepped forward.

“Thank you, mister,” the little girl said, “It’s very kind of you all to have put this together for me.”

The leader of the mountain folk reached over and placed a buttercup in the little girl’s hair, “Little one,” he said, “We are happy to have you,” he stepped back into the crowd and the festivities began.

The mountain folk weren’t as frantic as the selkies, their dance slower and more thoughtful. Even still, the little girl laughed as they spun her, and smiled so hard that her cheeks hurt.

Step by step the tempo began to slow down even further, and the little girl sat down, out of breath and red faced.

The little girl took the heavy pearl crown off her head to cool off.

“Come, little one,” the leader of the mountain folk appeared in front of her again, “It is quite late for a child such as yourself. But before you go, my people would give a gift such as the sea folk gave to you.”

The little girl’s eyes grew wide as a cape woven of wildflowers and herbs, and big enough for an adult was placed on her shoulders. The leader closed the peony clasp of the cloak, and helped the little girl up.

“Oh,” the little girl gazed at the mountain folk, realizing that this was the end, “Thank you,” her voice was hoarse with the late hour and exertion, “Thank you, and farewell!”

Panther brushed along the little girl’s side.

“The sun’s rising,” Dragon said.

The little girl climbed up Panther’s back, and for the third time, they leapt into the sky.

The barest hints of morning show through the horizon, the palest shades of dawn splashed through the sky.

“Hold very tight,” Dragon told the little girl, “We must fly fast enough to return you home at the time you joined us.”

They began moving very fast then, the mountains blurring and the pale gold of the city's all washing together in streaks.

The little girl gripped Panther, and worried her fingers would fall off from how hard she squeezed, or perhaps Panther’s soft fur would be ripped from her. But all was well, and the landscape below grew familiar, until they were circling above the little girl’s house.

It was proper dark again, the hints of morning the little girl had seen moments before extinguished.

They landed upon the little girl’s house. Dragon’s weight made the wood groan.

“And this is my present for you.” Dragon set something in the little girl’s hand.

“Happy birthday.”

The little girl, hands outstretched, felt something warm and light in her hand. It was a rather heart shaped, sharp thing, that glinted garnet and plum.

“Oh, Dragon,” the little girl’s eyes filled with tears.

“It will be okay,” Panther said, and rubbed her nose against the little girl’s shoulder.

“Goodbye, ” Dragon leapt off the roof and disappeared into the dark of the night.

Panther carried the little girl to the front door.

“Little one, this was an exquisite birthday party, fit for the princesses of the world.”

The little girl couldn’t speak, but let out a sob and clutched Panther close.

When the little girl collected herself, she said, “Panther, this was the most bestest birthday ever. Will you come visit?”

“Of course.”

The little girl threw her arms around Panther and squeezed, and then ran to her front door.

“Goodbye! Goodbye!”

The little girl went inside.

It was still silent in her house, and her parents weren’t home. But the little girl wasn’t lonely anymore. Her flower cape trailed behind her, and the pearls and gems shone. She clutched Dragon’s scale, feeling its heart shape, and sighed.

Up to her room she went, and took off the pearls and coral, the gems and the single buttercup in her hair. She took the wildflower cape and carefully placed all her gifts inside it. Then she took the bundle and gently set it down in a wooden toy chest that she hadn’t used since she was tiny.

Fingers moving as slow as possible, she shut the chest and gave a small kiss to its wooden cover.

The little girl clattered down the stairs to the dinner table, where her raspberry cream and cherry cake waited. She lifted her fork and took one bite, chocolate, raspberry, and cherry flavors bursting on her tongue. One bite was enough. The cake went back in its box, and the box in the cooler.

The little girl got ready for bed, and took one peek into her wooden chest. A whiff of mountain, forest, and sea greeted her. Satisfied, the little girl crawled into bed.

The little girl woke to the usual smell of the coffee her father brewed.

She ran down the stairs to see her parents sitting at the breakfast table, weary eyed but smiling.

“Daddy! Mum!” the little girl ran to her parents, “I saved my birthday cake--couldn't we please have it for breakfast?”

“Since it was your birthday, yes,” her father said.

The little girl’s mother took out the cake and cut each of them a fat slice, while singing a hearty happy birthday.

“Oh!” The little girl’s mother ran to the kitchen and returned with a pink candle. She pressed it into the little girl’s slice of cake and lit it.

“Make a wish,” her father said.

The girl blew out the candle.