As the December winds blew cold through the village you heard whispers of the coming of Mari Lwyd, an old Christmas tradition that you paid little mind to. Mari was just a myth after all.

You remembered your grandparents teasing you, insisting that she was a real beast, and if you let her in...she would consume everything in your home, including you. You brushed this off as just a silly myth, until one winters night you heard a knock on your door.

You opened it, expecting it to be a neighbor in need, but you saw only the empty eye sockets of a rotting horse skull, draped in filthy robes and dead flowers.

The Mari Lwyd herself stood before you, animalistic and breathing haggardly...like a beast gasping for air. Between breaths you could hear her singing in an otherworldly voice, despite the words being in old Welsh you understood her clearly.

"Here we come, dear friend...To ask permissions to sing...If we don't have permission...let us know in song."