Disclaimer: I don't own The Firebringer Trilogy. That honor belongs to Meredith Ann Pierce. I also don't own Cade; he belongs to my friend Scylla. All I own is Sofien.

Also, a WARNING: This story contains homosexual inferences. If you have problems with that and think that somehow love can only happen between a male and female, and if you are weak-minded enough for one story to ruin your ideas of unicorns, then please, for God's sake, don't read this story. I will not be held responsible for disturbed ideals and/or warped minds.

One Little Unicorn's Day

Like morning mist, like warm waves, like new spring. While the rest of the herd grazed and played and dozed in various parts of the valley, one solitary, pale green and white stallion danced alone atop a hillock near the foothills. Sunshine glimmered across his short summer coat like light across water, and his dainty, pearlescent hooves flashed amongst the blades of the rich grass that carpeted the Vale floor. Odd, for a unicorn to be so comfortable on his own, but this one was. Indeed, he was more at ease by himself than amongst his herdmates.

As he tossed his head to the sky, horn pointed towards the noontime sun, he caught sight of a green-and-gold shape, circling high overhead. For a moment, he started, ears flattening. But then he laughed at himself and tossed his mane. 'Twas only a gryphon. This made him laugh again. Only a gryphon! Imagine being able to say that. Ah, but times had changed much in the past few years. No longer did the unicorns have to worry about attack from the sky; the gryphons were allies now. The stallion reared up, pawing at the air and whistling towards the tercel, and he could have sworn he saw the wingcat dip his wings in return.

With a joyous laugh, the unicorn threw down his head and gave a great buck before taking off on a headlong sprint across the Vale. One or two of the others raised their heads as he passed, but took no further notice of him.

In no time at all, it seemed, he reached the edge of the trees that blanketed the foothills. He skidded to a stop, gazing up between the dark boles, nostrils flared and ears twitching agitatedly. His tail wove behind him like a snake as he began daintily picking his way up the slope, keeping a sharp eye out for loose stones that might slip under his hooves. As he climbed, he hummed a silly little ditty about a butterfly. Its origins he didn't know, but every colt and filly learned the tune in their infancy.

The green stallion paused on a patch of level ground, leaning his flank against a gnarled trunk to scratch. Then he continued on his way, tossing his creamy forelock back behind his ears with a little flick of his head. What a fine day for a little outing such as this! Clear sky, warm sun, jovial birds twittering away above his head. The wind carried no scent to his nose but that of pine needles, earth, and small animals, and he went along without a care in the world. Yes, life was very good for a young unicorn just entering his prime of life.

Rounding a bend in his nonexistent path, he caught the whiff of another of his kind – one of the sentries, no doubt, and it was one he knew. Happily he picked up his pace, trotting gaily to the rocky outcropping where his tawny friend stood.

The sentry was larger than he was by a good bit, but the green-and-white male was fairly small for a stallion. He was colored a rich, tawny shade, with deep red mane, tail, and beard; hooves and horn of bone; and four white socks that the dancer found simply adorable. His large frame was swathed with muscle, his hooves and horn were honed razor-sharp, but his large brown eyes betrayed him as a softy at heart.

The warrior curved his head around to see who had arrived, and his eyes lit upon recognition. He gave a welcoming whicker and nuzzled his small shoulderfriend's withers as the misty unicorn comfortably nestled against his side.

As the warrior male returned to his duty, his dancer friend tucked his head against that broad, tawny chest and closed his eyes. It was almost summer, and soon the young, unpaired unicorns would travel to their ancestral mating grounds on the shores of the Summer Sea, to pledge a mate under Alma's Thousand Eyes. The green stallion would go, as he did every year, as would his friend, just as he did every year. But this year, he would not sit out. No, he would dance his best, for one unicorn's eyes alone, and social boundaries be damned. He would have his tawny stallion, or none at all.

The unicorn at his side suddenly snorted, and he raised his head. The tercel he had seen earlier was still hovering over the Vale, and he had to laugh to himself. His friend had no great love of gryphons. Soothingly he nosed and lipped at the big male's neck, and received an answering nuzzle for his pains. And once again they settled, to gaze out over the lush valley that was their home, and to bask in the sun and each other's presence.

And that was how one little green unicorn spent his day.