Racing over the hills, Princess Francesca is riding her pearlescent unicorn. His magical golden bridle made by her father glitters, and his long, silken mane twirls around her new purple dancing gown. She goes faster and faster to the Faeries' Ball, near the cedar trees down by the river's end. 'I can't be late again - I want to find the one they told me about,' she cries. 'We are almost there, and I think I can hear his unicorn singing,' her Unicorn tells her, mind to mind.