“The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea.” Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn There are stories that entertain, stories that thrill, and then there are those rare few that burrow into the soul, leaving marks that never fade. The Last Unicorn is such a story…
