You've been attempting to sharpen your horn correctly for an hour. The bark of the tree you honed it against was covered in unicorn horn dust. With a sigh, you stood up straight. Bending over at that position pained your back severely, which was one of the drawbacks of being half-human and half-unicorn. Suddenly, you heard a branch snap. When you turned in that direction, you saw a young, filthy boy with a bundle of brushwood. The child froze and stared at you with wide, terrified eyes.