The unicorn looks around the forest and notices the silence.

She looks at her reflection in the pond and she sees that her coat has become dull with age, and that which shone with beauty and youth has become dull.

Her haunches which would once ripple powerfully as she ran through the glade have withered.

Her mane has become brittle. Her eyes once bright are now dim. Her memories, once so strong, now seem so distant.

She looks around the forest, and she calls for her brothers. She looks around the forest and she calls for her mate. There is no answer.

She calls for her children, and they answer, but the answer is faint on the wind, almost like an echo of her own voice.

She calls for her friends, and then she remembers they are long gone.

There are no more unicorns in the world.