Revelry.
Revelry like no one has ever seen or heard.
The smaller, and therefore quicker creatures are the first into the clearing. They run and dance, squealing as the exact moment has finally arrived.
Fur and feather gleam in the twilight, and what little light is there on its own reflects back from the creatures 10 fold. The more animals that arrive, the brighter it is.
There are no predators. It isn't that they do not show up, but they put their less admirable, creature-eating habits aside for the sake of the evening, and lion and lamb dance side by side.
Some of the animals play flutes and horns, and others (with prehensile digits) strum. Of course, their instruments are conceived from rocks and roots, and wouldn't sound very nice to us at all... but then again it is the ear of the listener that determines the true beauty of music, and what ears these are!
There is no food, only music and dancing. (I can assure you; If there were food, it would be very tasty. However, everybody just forgets to think about eating for the whole bit. This, I suppose, is a good thing. Most animal-time is spent worrying for food, and it is not as pleasant as with people. It is, as I stated, a worry.)
As the animals shine brighter, their stripes and spots are drowned out, and they become indistinguishable from one another.
Granted, you see all of the animals and know them quite clearly, just not which is which.
If I were to look at an alligator, a bunny, and a chicken all holding hands and dancing in a circle, I would be quite certain that I was looking at an alligator, a bunny, and a chicken... but not quite certain on the matter of which one was which... or where one ended and the other began.
