Introduction By the faint breath of movement before his face, the sudden sweet smell like the breath of a spring wind, he knew that the unicorn was nearby, invisible, watching him with wide eyes. -- John C. Wright, The Last Guardian of Everness (2005) rustle of leaves in the breeze. A subtle creaking of tree branches. (An eerie whinny?) A humming of insects. A chirping of songbirds. (A soft clomping of hooves?) Though they "aren't as rare as you might think,"* unicorns, like other retiring creatures of the forest, are often shrouded by their habitat. How many bird watchers have spied a warbler perched upon a tapered branch, never dreaming that the selfsame branch is, in actuality, a unicorn's horn? Truth be told, far more unicorn herds are heard than are ever seen. Out of the gleeful chorus of wilderness creatures, the simplest way to pinpoint an elusive unicorn is to listen for its song. Here's a secret: expert unicorn spotters can "see" more unicorns, per capita, with their eyelids shut than the average person can see with eyes wide open. * Phil Brucato, Deliria: Faerie Tales for a New Millennium (2003)