Marth the Unicorn doesn’t stand out very much. They don’t care to, either. They aren’t hard on the eyes, but it’s easy to overlook them. Unicorns aren’t as common as vulpine or canine people, but Marth is not the most colorful one. It’s good enough that you can tell they’re an Equine of sorts. The horn, as well as most of their face, hides underneath a thick, clumpy mane. Most times of the year, they wear a sweater, scarf and sweatpants. You couldn’t even tell if they’re a mare or stallion. Nor, frankly, should you.  
 
So the fact they frequently discard their shoes and go barefoot, is not for attention. They do as they will. They’re over 2.5 meters tall, as most Unicorns are. Though their feet are definitely quite big even for their size, they aren’t doing this so you can find out. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.  
 
At times, they go a scenic route down a park trail. It’s a nice road, partly cobbled, partly paved. It may or may not have been a bike trail, but they walk there like they own it. During fall, autumnal leaves fall and coat it. It’s neat. If the weather is cool, they’ll just stop, rest against the fence, and pull off their sneakers. One by one, they’ll put them in their hand, peel off their socks, stuff them inside, and proceed to walk on in their bare feet. Maybe the trail’s surface is fun to step on. Maybe their body just gets too warm, nestled under the tight sweater, scarf and warm pants. Does the contrast of sensations put a pep in their step? Perhaps they just enjoy feeling the weather on their soles. They do it when it rains, or when it snows.  
 
Then again, maybe their feet just get tight in the shoes, so Marth has no compunctions against going barefoot the rest of the way. The array of different pressures on their soles could be pretty refreshing – it beats rubbing against the toes and insoles of their sneakers. They do have pretty big feet. They’ve got vast, chunky soles. You could say they’re made for comfortable barefoot walking – it’s not like they care. They get by without generating much callous matter. It could be different, but it’s not like they’re always barefoot. Once they feel like it, they’ll put their socks and shoes back on. There’s always a way to deal with the stains, being a Unicorn.  
 
They’ll just travel down the path, the toes of their sneakers bumping into each other, laces swinging in the air. Their feet quietly rustle the reddish yellow leaves. When they stop, they’d rub their soles against their pants, casting off little rocks and clumps of dust they picked up. You could say it’s customary for them to sit down at a bench close to the trail’s end, and to rest their feet on it. They sit there, crossing their feet at their ankles, curling their toes, rubbing their arches and de-stressing the tired soles. They sketch in their notebook – if the weather is particularly neat that day.  
 
But maybe ‘customary’ is assuming too much, and maybe they just feel like going barefoot sometimes, so that’s why they do it. Or, hey – maybe it’s just fun?  
 
At times, Marth the Unicorn shows up at the office. They aren’t strictly required to, but even then, it doesn’t happen too often. Their parents own the place, so maybe that’s how they get away with it. Their job is not the most exciting. Double-checking and reformatting other people’s accounting tables can be a little dire, so people hardly complain that they come in to do what no one else wants to do.  
 
And if no one is bothered by them, that means they feel completely at ease going barefoot at the office. It’s not even particularly warm, but as ever, comfort takes priority, so they lean back in their chair and air their soles out on the desk. Never mind that most of the time, this isn’t their desk. Their heels crumple up someone else’s papers. Their lightly stained soles catch passing sunlight from the window. One leg resting over the other, the volume of both soles can compare with the monitor. Sock follicles are left on the floor where they walk. A ledger rests in their elevated lap. Maybe they’re making some notes by hand, or maybe they’re just sketching again, warming their soles by a hot, untouched mug of coffee.  
 
They don’t really care.  
 
The fact is, people do very much notice. It’s just that complaints achieve nothing. Yes, Marth did just take off their shoes and their socks, no, they don’t think that’s weird, let alone distracting. Really, if you are distracted by the unicorn’s bare feet thumping on the linoleum floor as they skip the line to the water cooler, it says more about you than anything. Them turning their soles up and curling their toes as they rest against a wall and wait on their papers to file, is entirely in your imagination. You’re in luck if it’s not summer. Everyone gets used to it, eventually. They haven’t noticeably contributed to the tiny accounting firm’s workforce drain.  
 
It’s not unheard of they keep their shoes on while they do the work. It’s equally heard of that they appear not to have bothered putting them on even before arriving. The few times they were confronted, all they said was that it’s comfortable to be in bare feet when thinking. Being bothered about it, is not. The most you will ever get from them is a middle finger – at worst; or a suggestion to try it yourself- at best.  
 
They won’t even pose if you decide to psyche them out by taking a picture. They just do what they do, at their own pace, and in the office, is it really worth it to stop them?.. You can enjoy the show. You can seethe in the corner. The truth is, there is no show.  
 
Maybe, this is all just one Unicorn’s comfort, and people’s restless eyes and noses are entirely their problem. Marth only shows up every other week. They could probably afford not doing it…  
 
They don’t work much, though. Their situation allows them to. Besides, they’re efficient when they do. So when they swing by the local university, it’s not because they’re working to pay for classes. They’re not even enrolled. There’s free lectures and events that all creatures can attend, though. The campus grounds can be interesting. Beats other spots that aren’t free. Here, it is free. If you know how to act. Security is whatever.  
 
Marth the Unicorn can just show up at a lecture and sit around there. Or they could go watch a drama club performance. Not that anyone actually cares. They act like they’re supposed to be there. You can get far with indifference and confidence. Why are they there? To study? To observe people? To waste time?  
 
To pad around barefoot on the well cut grass lawns and to show up to lectures afterwards? It’d be pretty funny if they did that on purpose. People take pics of that. They gasp, snicker, moan, complain. Try to call guards, at least one time. It’s a zero uniform uni, though – all species, all shapes and sizes. Could Marth get in trouble, being the way they are? No, not really. Probably not, anyway.  
 
Their bare, sweaty feet are on the cafeteria table, but they paid for dinner and they can do whatever they want. They’re almost impossible to intimidate. Wasting time bullying someone who doesn’t even go to this university is just a bad look. They know they’re safe so long as they don’t start anything. Showing up without shoes to where people study or eat isn’t ‘starting anything’, especially when it’s warm. Besides, maybe some people like it. Who knows, perhaps Marth the Unicorn has a few admirers. Some people could really want to poke and squeeze their feet, get to know them better too while they’re at it.  
 
Well, no luck with that. Marth the Unicorn does what they want. They’ll watch a free art class from over the tops of their crossed bare feet (and their sweeping thick mane). They’ll keep, and remove, their shoes and socks, however they please, even if someone asks them to go barefoot when they happen to feel more comfortable still having them on. They’re comfortable like this, feet stretched on the table, spare pencil lodged between their toes, sketching or writing something down in their notebook. Maybe, this is all just to see how people start acting when faced with this sort of behavior. Or maybe, Marth doesn’t even register that their shoe-free ways are abnormal, and they aren’t even here to study – it’s just less boring than elsewhere in town.  
 
If half the other students did the same, they wouldn’t care.  
 
You probably do, though. You’re staring. They’ve got big feet, and they’re leaving them naked. Free to be touched by the ground, the grass, the elements, and your eyes. Yeah, it’s a public place. A cinema, where they decide they feel comfortable putting their bare feet up on the next seat in front of them, so their popcorn and detritus stained soles catch the projector’s light. An inter-city train, where they sketch what they see out the window, airing out their feet right in front of the rest of the aisle. A cheap diner, where you can’t help but look over at the tops of their feet under the table. A parkgrounds bench, where they rest on their stomach, feet crossed in the air, sipping on something and reading stuff on their phone. Marth the Unicorn doesn’t stand out very much, and just because they’ve voluntarily removed their shoes in the middle of somewhere public, shouldn’t change that.  
 
It does for you, though, and honestly, whose problem is that? They’re cool and confident, and you’re sweating. You’re probably just getting in the way of whatever it is they’re sketching in their notebook. Don’t expect much conversation when they ask you to move away… Maybe they’ll empathetically point away with their big toe as they ask you to bug off. If you’re lucky.