I did not hear her above the sound of my own sobs as she approached. My first hint that she was near, was the tap of her horn against the back of my right hand. She was gone again before I could look up. As I looked at the gift that she had left on my hand, I heard the echo of her whisper in my mind. “Thank you.” On the index finger of my right hand resided a spiral silver ring with intricate minute carvings. The ring was of the same material as the knife that still lay in that same hand – unicorn horn. I had never worn jewelry on that finger for no ring ever felt right. That one did – as if it belonged.