January 25, 2016
I spent the better part of the day pinned against one of my kilns by a unicorn. Oh, the pain and anguish I suffered. Its conical instrument of destruction pricking at the flesh on my chest. The searing heat against my back; melting my skin. The acrid aroma of sulfur mixed with burning tissue. My wails of discomfort. Still, I take consolation in knowing that it makes me stronger. The power I gain from such torment is ever a tool for my survival. If it had not been for Daisy, I might still be enfolded in the predicament. On the other hand, if not for her, I might not have known the torture at all. Her abilities are growing at an exponential rate, but she has yet to realize the true power that she possesses.
She claimed to have been sleeping and was roused by my screaming. The unicorn caught sight of her and let me be. It trotted to Daisy and nuzzled her neck before galloping away. She was dumbfounded, mentioning that it looked just like the one she saw in her dream. I would postulate that it was the one she saw in her dream. It gives me further consolation knowing that the incident lends support to my theory: The notions which reside in the hearts and minds of children may indeed exist in reality whether or not we adults acknowledge the possibility.