by Mercedes Lackey
He plunges through the forest night; his eyes are wide with fear;
Behind him he can hear the sounds that mean the hunt is near.
And now before him is the trap, and in the trap the bait;
He tremble, kneels, and lays his horn upon the lap of fate.
And now the hunt converges on the spellbound unicorn;
The hunter mean to slay the beast and take his precious horn.
So eager in their greed and lust, they have not chanced to see
This maid is not the peasant lass they left tied to the tree.
And as they raise their spears she calls red lightning from her hands;
Their arms are bound fast to their sides as if by iron bands.
She rises; in her voice is rage, and hatred in her eyes,
"Foul killers of a dream, be warned: You merit death!" she cries.
"Though you spread terror, pain, and death, rough justice shall you see,
For as you have the hunted been, so shall you hunted be."
Now once again from out her hands the lightnings flash and flare;
Where once each man had stood was now a small and frightened hare.
"From moon to sun to moon again, run hunted, evil men,
And pray the Lady stays her hand, and Fate remains your friend.
Fair unicorn, you and your kind still may die, unless...
Shall we turn hunter, you and I?" And the unicorn said, "Yes."