What if unicorns were not a mundane normality, but a feared anomaly? What if the history and origin of magic and unicorns were amorphous and enigmatic beyond anypony's capacity of understanding? What if magic was not acceptable and convenient, but illicit and inadmissible?

Provincial, modest Ponyville is far from accustomed to receiving wayward newcomers, but they generally accost passing and staying nomads alike with housewarming and hospitality. That is, unless they're a unicorn. The victim de jour just so happens to be Ms. Twilight Sparkle.