My attempt to write about some of my current feelings regarding SFF in the aftermath of the recent explosion of somethingorother all over everything has produced a Horrifying Truth About Unicorns, so I'm just gonna... sit with that.
(Though, strictly strictly, a harpoon is a spear on a rope, often with a detachable barbed head; the mental image is startling, applying the terminology to unicorns.)
I am not at all sure the narrator cares about that sort of precision. They might be pleased with the idea of being that sort of disconcerting, actually. That's the problem with eldritch horrors, even affable ones.
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(Though, strictly strictly, a harpoon is a spear on a rope, often with a detachable barbed head; the mental image is startling, applying the terminology to unicorns.)
From:
no subject