Silence filled the forest as the last tree fell. The last tree, last source pure magical power had been reduced to a shriveled husk. An elf, blue eyes watering in disbelief, limped towards the fallen oak. It was strange and unreal. Dark brown bark turned grey, its bright green leaves curled and turned brittle and died. The elf touched the trunk gingerly with its long thin fingers and gasped. Nothing could be felt,not a spark of life. Its brothers and sisters watched it carefully. So did the fairies, flitting their discolored wings nervously. The burly dwarves watched too. Their sturdy shoulders slumped in defeat and their calloused hands clenched in anger. The ground was a sickly grey just as the sky. Everything was gone.
EVERYTHING BUT THE AWESOME MAJESCTIC FABULOUS UNICORN THAT SAVED THE DAY WITH HER MAGICAL UNICORN POWERS THEN RODE OF INTO THE SUNSET LIKE A BOSS.
The end?
YOU ARE READING
The Unicorn
FantasyThe forest was still. When all hope is lost, what can be done to bring it back?
