Libra 20. In a lush, dark forest a unicorn prancing.
A white unicorn is made no grayer by the deepest of forest shadows. There is a part of green that is always asleep in the densest of forests and it is here that the unicorn loves to cavort, here where it can prance by the light of its own brightness. A dance that wards off eyes, but is seen by any heart that wanders deeply enough into the forest.