Daisy wasn’t born a horse, donkey or zebra. She was born a unicorn and thus her family abandoned her. Her mother didn’t even shed a tear or wave goodbye. She was three years old and spent the next three days crying on a rock. Surely, her sadness would float her to a better place, but alas, her stomach growled so loudly, she couldn’t ignore it any longer. She would learn to live on her own.
Daisy munched on orchids, lily pads and neon green grass. Her stomach felt full, but she was as lonely as ever. She sand songs to herself to keep from feeling so alone.
“What are you singing?”
“Mom? You came back?!”
But when Daisy turned around, she didn’t find her mother. She found a rather large red-scaled dragon staring down at her.
“Oh, please don’t be frightened. I’m sorry I’m not your mother. Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry if my singing bothered you. I’ll leave now.”
Daisy hung her head low and sauntered slowly away from the dragon.
“Please don’t leave, unicorn. What’s your name?”
She could barely muster the excitement in her voice. Someone wanted to talk to her. “My name is Daisy. What’s your name?”
“I’m Wilma. Would you like to live with me? The grass is ever so green and tall by the entrance of my cave.”
Daisy remembered the only thing her mother ever told her. It was never to talk to strangers, but what did it matter now? She was all alone in a strange place. She agreed to go and she followed Wilma to her cave.
Wilma didn’t lie to Daisy. The grass was sweet, the flowers decadent and the nearby pond was a host of lily pads and jumping green frogs.
Two weeks passed with Wilma, Daisy lazily spent her days by the pond, singing songs with the frogs, when a strange man came to visit. His hair was silver, his cap was tall and his sword was long. What was Daisy supposed to do?
“Oh, it’s true. A unicorn!”
“Yes, that’s right, I am.”
“It speaks!” The man said to no one but himself.
“Yes, I do. What do you want?”
“Your magnificent horn. Now come here?”
Daisy went charging for the man, horn down, hooves beating down the poppies, but before she reached him, Wilma snorted a thick cloud of flames. The man cried out in pain and limped away. Daisy barely missed the blaze, her mane singed on the ends.
“Oh, Daisy? Are you alright? I should have told you to avoid the men that come here. Every so often there’s a new soul that seeks a fortune, a dragon scale and just now your horn. They disrupt the forest and try to have their way with nature instead of respecting it.”
But Daisy didn’t hear a word Wilma said, she was too busy crying at her feet, thanking her for saving such a thing as herself.
Wilma brushed away her tears and told her, “Let’s fly away from here.”
And they did.
