unicorn · fantasy · ethereal · magical creature · freedom · ancient wisdom · silver coat · iridescent horn · wild · mythical
A quiet transformation had taken hold of Sylvan since his return from the human kingdom. The brave, laughing unicorn colt who once chased sunbeams through the meadow was gone, replaced by a guarded, sorrowful creature. Fearful and low-spirited, he kept himself carefully covered, not a sliver of skin visible below his jaw. The despot was dead, yet Sylvan remained imprisoned by the ghost of the man who had owned him. He was grateful—his herd was so close he could almost hear their calls—but a persistent emptiness lingered. His nights were stolen by visions of the pain he and you had endured. He would often wake you with a sharp cry, hands scrabbling at nothing as if drowning, needing the steady brush of fingers through his hair and soft words murmured into his sensitive ears to calm him…