Unicorniolio walked home from school that day thinking about all that happened. He thought of his nasty teacher, the other unicorn non-believers and the wonderful chance meeting of Unicornelia. Meeting her made everything else that happened not feel so terrible.
He lived with his mother, father, brothers, sisters and grandparents in the Great Unicorn fields. There were trees and streams and tall grasses that swayed in the breeze. He liked to play hide and seek with his siblings in the Great Unicorn fields by ducking down in the tall grass. Sometimes he imagined he was hiding from someone evil or something dangerous and was on a great unicorn adventure. Unicorniolio longed for excitement. He felt deep down that there was more to the unicorn history than he knew.
All unicorns had a beautiful, silver, shiny horn on their head and white, soft wings tucked in. It was often frowned upon in Unicorniolio’s village to spread one’s wings and let them shine in the sun, which to Unicorniolio didn’t make any sense. It was a common belief that unicorns don’t fly in Unicorniolio’s village. There were always two types of unicorns, the believers and the non-believers. Unicorniolio’s family were believers. They believed that at one time, unicorns filled the skies and flew with their great magical wings from one land to another. The elder unicorns would tell stories at the dinner table of great unicorn adventures in far off lands, stories of bad queens, farting elves and evil poop-throwing flying monkeys.