A living myth she is called with her gleaming hide and dreamy eyes. Born to the cruel fate of being the last of her kind she has become legend. Children still know of her and dream of her, loving each story and tale told. Down from the mountains she is occasionally drawn, searching for another like her, racing across the moors. Elegant and ethereal she runs free for a short time keeping an ear turned to the village. For in the valley there are men and once she hears their calls ring out her time for running free in the open land comes to a close. Grown men begin to shout and call to one another in clear deep voices. “Hunters it is time to hunt, we have seen the greatest creature.” Instantly the peace of the day is gone. Just as in days gone by, the hunters fall upon her trail. Killing her is their goal, to catch her and mount her on a wall. Long and silvery her mane and hide glow in the evening moon, to them she is only a prize with the horn upon her head.
Many have joined in the hunt although it has proved fruitless oh so many times. Next to a river bank she races through the night. Over the edge stones tumble and fall splashing in the water. Pounding heart she bounds leaping from one bank to the other and into the cool dark forest. Quiet and still, she huddles in the deep shadows of a yew tree. Rough leaves brush against her and drift down to the forest floor. Spotted once again she springs away heading deeper into the woods. Trees, massive and ancient, surround her giving her shelter, silent sentinels guarding her from searching eyes. Unicorns are not something for the faint of heart to hunt, nor is travel in this ancient forest. Veering away from the sounds of those still following she fades away deeper into the forests protection.
Webs catch on her horn as she stumbles into an area unfamiliar to her, the canopy of leaves creating a fragmented and shifting light. Xanthium plant covers the ground here and just as she lowers her head to graze an odd familiar shape catches her eye. Young and wandering on its own she has found the most magnificent thing, a foal with a horn of silver upon its brow. Zealous energy flows through her with the sudden and inescapable knowledge that she is not, after all, destined to wander the rest of her life alone.
