Sniff—sniff—ACHOO!
The sound bounced off the cozy stable walls like a tiny drum. The air smelled of warm hay and apple peel, and the floor felt smooth under Hugo’s hooves.
Hugo was a young unicorn with a soft silver mane and a horn like a curled seashell. He also had a problem that made his ears droop.
Every time he sneezed, glitter sprayed everywhere.
Not a little. Not a sprinkle.
A bright, twinkling *splat* of glitter—on the water bucket, on the blanket, on his own nose.
Hugo groaned. "I hate sparkles," he whispered. "They stick. They itch. They get in my oatmeal."
He tried wiping his muzzle with a towel, but the towel became a shining, crunchy comet tail. He tried stomping the glitter away, but it floated right back up, drifting like tiny stars.
"Unicorn glitter is magical," said the stablekeeper kindly, brushing straw from his apron. "But you don’t have to like it."
Hugo’s tummy felt wiggly with worry. "I just want to sneeze like everyone else."
That morning, he decided to search for a cure.
He packed a saddlebag with a biscuit, a cloth, and a jar labeled "Emergency Nose." Then he trotted out of the stable and onto the familiar path leading to the meadow.
The meadow was calm and soft as a blanket. Dew kissed the grass, and bees hummed like quiet kazoos. Hugo was careful with every breath.
But a feather from a dandelion puff floated right into his nostril.
"Uh-oh," he muttered. "No, no—"
ACHOO!
A burst of glitter whooshed into the air. It fell onto the grass, making it shine like it had been sprinkled with sugar.
Hugo’s face felt hot. "Mess again."
From behind a clump of fern, a small voice said, "That was the prettiest sneeze I’ve ever heard."
Hugo blinked.
