The water is cold, against this woman's body, cold as it never was to me before. I can't see my reflection in this water, for it is not still, as the pool in my forest was; it is wild and untamed, foaming and frothing against the cliffs and the castle and the shore, stirred into a tempest by the wrath of the Red Bull, who has not forgotten that one unicorn got away from him. He smell the unicorn - he can smell me. But he can not find me, for the unicorn's shape is no longer mine. I am safe, in this woman's body, safe as I can not be in the unicorn's, but I do not feel safe.
I stand above those cliffs, feeling the spray of the water against my skin, and try to remember, but it is all vague. I am forgetting: soon I will not even remember that I have forgotten something at all. It has not been long since the magician changed me, but will be longer yet until I can rediscover my true form, and already the memories leave me. I feel them, as they escape my mind; gentle fingers, a whispered song carried upon the wind, the soft tears of the heavens, brushing across my cheek with pity and compassion, fleeing into the world. In this body, they tell me I am safe, from the rage of the Bull, but I am losing everything. I am no more safe in this body than I was when facing the Red Bull.
This body dies around me, with each breath, and my memory leaves me: I fear I will die in this body, with the knowledge of my true form gone. I am captive to the ephemeral nature that plagues humanity in this body; had they left me a unicorn, at least I would not have the knowledge of mortality.