The clear flow of the steam burbles over the rocks. As the woodlark calls the sun's last lullaby. Night sounds of the forest vibrate off every stone and tree. The brilliant orange light of the setting sun glistens off every leaf, every spider web and every drop of moisture. Mountains in the distance have shed their regal crowns of white. And contrast the sun in their blue majesty.
The aura of purity within this untouched forest it so heavy almost tangible, a taste a smell or maybe the absence of these. No hand of man dared touch these woods, for men knew well to whom they belonged. Their warden stood upon a lonesome hill overlooking her realm in this time of quiet change. Here the creatures had nothing to fear for she would see them through the night. She stands above and watches the slowly turning circles of the mortality surrounding her. Watching the forest die and be reborn, she sighs. She turns slightly in the last of the orange blaze and one silver tear glitters and falls in faceted brilliance to the ground. Near to her shadow wavering between the form of a girl or the majestic, horned shadow of a unicorn.
As the warden wanders through her forest in the night, she speaks to no one in particular to be seen.
" Amalthia, I am afraid I can feel this place dying around me as surely as I felt you dying. What evil is it that I see? A forest is no more mortal than it's guardian. The life within it, trees, plants, and animals may die but a forest cannot die. No more than I can."
A voice heard by none other, mortal or immortal, danced upon the breeze into the unicorn's ear.
" A forest is no more mortal than it's guardian. But Lady are you any less mortal than I inside? You are dying as surely as you were when you were with me. Don't you know silly girl that once death has claimed your future he won't simply let go?"
But this could never be. It is impossible to kill a unicorn. But so to is it impossible for a forest to die and for a unicorn to cry.
