Aster considered the toad with intrigue as he stepped into the chamber. Sunlight glimmered across the thing’s back from a cleft in the ceiling above, its skin moist and shining from the water that dripped down onto it. 

The first thing Aster noticed about the toad, other than its size, was its sentience. Even before either of them said a word, the massive thing was puffing on a ridiculously large pipe. Rather than exhaling, the smoke clouded out through holes in its back, wafting lazily toward the crack in the ceiling. Aster supposed everyone, the toad included, was lucky there was ventilation. 

Then the thing moved- only its eyes, really, swiveling in giant sockets to look down at him. Even if it weren’t perched on a mossy stone, it would tower over him. “WHO ARE YOU?” He bellowed around the end of his pipe. His booming voice echoed in the chamber where he’d made his home. 

Aster regarded him quizzically, tilting his head, but when he was spoken to he fell into a deep bow. “Just a humble bard, sire,” He replied with a calm smile. He really didn’t want to be attacked by several tons of intelligent toad, but judging by the way the moss had build up around the shadow of his great body, it didn’t seem like the beast was inclined to leave his post. Though, perhaps that was no indicator of its attitude towards coursers. It could easily reach him with a flick of the tongue and swallow him whole. 

The toad considered him with horizontal pupils as Aster straightened from his bow. After a long moment of consideration in which neither party moved, it spoke again; “THEN SING, BARD.”

So Aster sang.