“They will come and cut down the trees if we don’t do something,” said a Griffin. His fierce eagle’s face and muscular lion’s body were tense and ready to fight.
“We must scare them away!” bellowed a minotaur.
“They will not scare easily,” replied a timid satyr. “If we show ourselves, they might kill us.”
“If we fight, they will fight back,” agreed a wood nymph.
Their voices rose into a loud clamor and rolled through the wood long into the night.
As exhaustion and despair crept over them, a brown elf spoke. “We must go into the wood,” he said.
“We have already talked about that,” they grumbled. “They will just keep coming and drive us further, until there is no forest left.”
“No, you misunderstand. We must go into the wood, inside the trees,” the brownie explained.
“What? Are you crazy? Easy for you to say! You can fit in a burrow in a tree. We are much larger.” They were all arguing and talking at once.
“Are we magical creatures or not?” he calmly asked.
“Yes. Of course we are,” they mumbled, nodding their heads and looking around at one another.
“Then, we must become one with the trees. We can join with the trees and go wherever the trees go,” said the brownie.
There was silence.
“But what will we do, once they take the trees?” a small mouse asked.
They continued to talk and plan until all was settled. Then, they waited.
Before long, all of the enchanted trees were cut down. The wood was so beautiful, with such a fine grain and glorious smell that the King claimed it for his castle. It was used for the vast banquet table, for the floors and ceilings, for all manner of practical and decorative objects until there was not a stick left. The castle was rich with the golden luster and earthy aroma of the wood.
During the day, the courtiers, servants and visiting dignitaries admired the wood and its interesting whorls and varying shades of brown and gold. In the evenings, the Queen would often lie in bed with her children telling stories. Sometimes, they would look up at the ceiling and point out the faces made by the knots and grain of the wood.
“Look, Mother. Doesn’t that look like a fairy? See her wings and curly hair?” said the princess.
“Mother, look over here. It’s a big bear! See his nose and fierce eyes?” said the prince.
“Yes, children! It looks like there are creatures in the wood. Amazing!” came her reply.
The creatures listened and came out at night. All was well, for a time.
One day, a foreign aggressor laid siege on the land. He had heard of the marvelous wood and wanted the castle for himself. The King called his men at arms. As they surged forward to meet the enemy, the magical creatures emerged from the wood to join them in battle, taking non-magical forms. The Griffins appeared as eagles and the centaurs as horses.
The aggressors were losing as the battle wore on. In desperation, they prepared the fiery catapults. The magical creatures gasped when they saw the flames. They must keep the fire away from the wood! They attacked with renewed vigor, swarming around the catapults. Before they could prevent it, one fiery ball was launched. They paused, gazing up helplessly as it flew toward the castle. How could they stop it without revealing themselves?
An enormous eagle rose into the air, caught the flaming ball in its claws and dropped it in the moat. The Griffin had saved the day. The enemy was defeated and the castle protected. 
As the King’s men celebrated, darkness fell. The magical creatures slipped among the young saplings bordering the streams. Deep in the night, they returned to the castle. “Soon, the trees will call us home,” they whispered.
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