Because she fears the past she distrusts the future — it, too, will turn into the past.

Her chief dread in life, at this period of her development, was that she would appear narrow minded; what she feared next afterwards was that she should be so.

From that first moment of doubt, there was no peace for her; from the time she first imagined leaving her forest, she could not stand in one place without wanting to be somewhere else. She trotted up and down beside her pool, restless and unhappy. Unicorns are not meant to make choices. She said no, and yes, and no again, day and night, and for the first time she began to feel the minutes crawling over her like worms.

Frightened by something in her own nature

I love her beauty, but I fear her mind.

She is afraid of crumbling and disappearing, of being taken and being left behind at the same time: a body tumbling between hands while dying inside.

And I'm afraid that I'll be taken, abandoned, forsaken
In her cold coffee eyes

Sometimes a woman is afraid to be without security or without certainty, for even a short time. She has more excuses than dogs have hairs. She must just simply dive in and stand not knowing what will happen next.

She is a double danger—there is the danger of meeting her, and the danger of becoming her. Does the nightmare of her belong to everyone, or just to me?

I have one great fear in my heart, that one day when they are turned to loving, they will find we are turned to hating.

It causes me great pain and anxiety to inflict fear on this poor old croc, but without me, he and his wilderness would suffer.

I hate the thought of her being forced into a box that doesn't fit her. Of having her wings cut off, her sight blinded, her hearing muted, her voice stilled.

She'll die.'
'Aye. That's a consequence of being alive.

She is suspicious and fearless and her progress is alarming.