Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

It's been about 3 years since I arrived in this place, and I must say, life around here is quite... uninteresting? Monotonous? No, those aren't the right words. "Limiting" would be more appropriate, especially when you're in the body of a 4-year-old child! But let's put aside the bad parts for now and talk about some of the good things that have happened over these 3 years, alright?

The first year was by far the most tedious of all! I can say for sure that at least 70% of my time was spent inside the crib! And the other 30% was spent watching Grandma doing something at that table. Sometimes, she would just be drawing random things on those hides, and other times mixing herbs and various things that I'm sure no sensible person would let a baby get close to. But what can I do, right?

Well, it wasn't all bad in the end, since I learned a thing or two by watching her "work," but I still haven't forgiven her—and I won't—for that grotesque goo!

Now, the second year was when things started to heat up, since this little one here finally mastered the art of walking, and the world would now be my sandbox! I said "would be" because Grandma didn't allow me to leave the house for too long, nor go too far—especially near the village. It doesn't even make sense! There's a forest full of wild animals less than 5 minutes from the house, and she barely reacts if I go there! Yet she still hasn't let me go down there until now!

Moving on.

And here we are! 3 years! Well, it's been about 7 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days since it's been 3 years, but who's counting, right? I know I'm not.

At the beginning of this year, Grandma started giving me lessons. What kind of lessons, you ask? Simple things, really: 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, 10 kilometers of running in circles. You know, just small stuff, nothing major. This is definitely not a cry for help.

Jokes aside, the training isn't that intense. It's more of a goal than anything. In reality, I can only do about a third of all that, which is still a lot, considering I have the capabilities of a 4-year-old. The easiest part of the training is definitely the running. For some reason, I seem to have very high stamina, and I don't have to worry much about hurting my feet since, you know, hooves... Hooves...

Moving on, it wasn't just physical training that tormented me these past 7 months. She's also been taking me into the forest to teach me some things about the herbs and beasts of the region, like how to find, identify, collect, and/or avoid them—mostly avoid. Just last week, I saw a flower eat a giant bird whole!

Lastly, she taught me how to read and write, which, honestly, was the hardest part of all! Who would have thought that learning a completely new language would be so difficult? Speaking of which, there's something that's been bothering me for quite some time: I can't talk! I can already read and write, but every time I try to speak, all that comes out are grunts! It's so frustrating! But it's not like I can do anything about it, anyway. Life goes on, I guess.

I just realized that you still don't know what I look like. Well, I guess I'll start from the top down. I let my hair grow over these 3 years, and now it reaches a little below my shoulders—still straight and soft. My eyes are still big and seem to have an even more vivid tone than before. And just so you know, that mark on my forehead only disappeared after a while, and Grandma never told me what it was.

My skin is soft and fair, with a healthy pink glow—none of that completely pale skin from before! I have to admit, as much as I hate that green goo, it must have been something very healthy to give me such beautiful skin.

And finally... my legs. Do you remember the scales? Yeah, they've grown, and they've multiplied too! Now they cover the lower half of my legs almost completely! And I know you're curious—they're purple. And my feet? Hooves. I know I've avoided this subject several times, but just for you, I'll talk about them, so be happy! They're like horse hooves, but in a very dark shade, almost black. And I must say, despite not liking them at all, they are actually quite useful, since I didn't feel anything but mild discomfort even after stepping on a stone. And that doesn't mean they're insensitive, because I feel everything else as if they were normal feet. But enough about my hooves!

One thing I find strange is the fact that Grandma hasn't taught me anything related to magic yet. What? She's clearly some kind of witch, or are you going to tell me those skulls piled on her head are just for decoration? And that big cauldron is for making soup? So learning magic is the least to expect, right? And she hasn't taught me any fighting techniques either, or how to handle a weapon. Well, I guess it's because I'm still too young for those things.

"Phoebe! It's time to go!"

Oh, looks like it's time. Looking back, it doesn't seem like I talked about many positive things, does it? But I really enjoyed these last 3 years, so you can say everything I mentioned was good stuff, right?

Now I really have to go, or Grandma will rip my head off.

Until next time, dear Diary.

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