Day after day, fair maidens flocked to the unicorn, pouches full of oats and juicy carrots. They brushed him from head to hoof, combed and braided his mane. But he wouldn’t let anyone near his silvery horn.
One night, strange noises woke the unicorn. A rope looped around his horn.
“You are no maiden,” the unicorn cried out. “Your arms are hairy, your dress ill-fitting.”
“Your horn is mine,” the intruder’s coarse voice sounded. A serrated blade flashed in the moonlight.
“Fine, keep it!” The false horn fell into the thief’s greedy hands as the horse pulled free and ran.
Author’s Note: What if a unicorn was just a horse in disguise?
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