Barry the Unicorn

There once was an ancient creature. A majestic creation called a unicorn. A unicorn named Barry.

Barry was wild and free with a great appreciation for his white shiny coat and his pointy horn. He roamed an untamable land that was once known as the Separate Kingdoms. 

Along his adventures, Barry would occasionally see the giant elk, Meg. Meg towered over Barry, casting their shadow across all his land, but Meg never ventured too far from their forests. Barry would often witness Meg and their huge, glorious antlers caught on low hanging branches, which wasn’t quite as bewitching as Barry’s horn. Meg would amble along peacefully and that was one of the reasons why Barry liked Meg. Meg kept to themselves. 

Barry would also see in the sky the humungous dragon, Red, soaring here and there. Even from the earth, Red’s teeth glinted like sunlight and in one bite, Red could have devoured Barry, Meg and anything in between. However, Red never flew anywhere near the ground. Barry didn’t know much about Red, but that was one of the things he liked about Red. Red kept to themselves. 

Finally, there was the lion. Barry didn’t even bother to learn its name. 

Barry hated that guy. 

Barry couldn’t quite put his hoof on one single reason why he disliked Lion so much. There were many reasons why Barry had such disdain for Lion. 

Barry didn’t like the way Lion strutted all over the place, flexing his muscular limbs. Brandishing his brute strength with no poise or demeanour. As if he could take possession of all the kingdoms if he wanted to. Barry had an air of unfounded confidence that Barry choked on. As if he owned every piece of land their paw landed on, Lion went back and forth on everyone’s land.

Another reason Barry didn’t like Lion was because of his huge unseemly furry mane. Barry didn’t know how he could even see past all that condensed fur, like an overgrown wheat field. Dry and unkempt. The complete opposite of Barry’s startling, pristine appearance.

The last straw was the crown. The teeny, tiny, stupid crown that was lost in Lion’s mane. The accessory that Lion wore proudly like was he was king of them all. Hidden in Lion's dirty fur.

Barry snorted in fury at the thought of that crown. The teeny, tiny, stupid crown.

The object of all Barry’s desires. 

Lion didn’t even cherish the crown. Lion didn’t know the true power that was lost on top of his big lumbering head. Barry would cherish the crown. Every single day, Barry would wear it with honour around his glowing horn.

One day he would challenge Lion, Barry thought. Even if Lion was going to beat him all around town, Barry would not give up. Barry would be the creature that stood for them all. The one reigning over a united kingdom.