Day 22:
The gods... I like how they walk amongst us, sometimes. You can always see what they're up to.
But I wonder... where do they go when they're not here? Are there other forests to tend? Other places to manage?
Infact... what is beyond the forest? Is this all there is?

Day 23:
I was looking in the pond, today. I know some deer have died there.
But, where do we go when we die? What happens to our bodies- to our minds? Do we become ghosts, or go to another place?
...Do we even have to die at all? If I can mature so quickly, when will I grow old? Some deer grow old... but some don't seem to change at all.

Day 24:
The things I dream at night, they don't belong to me, do they? The images I see in my head- I've never known these objects, these places, these feelings before. The creatures...
Should I be worried? Am I mad? Who is this person- this voice I speak with, the voice that I know...

Day 25:
I dreamt of her again. A female.. something. I feel her strange claws reach out to touch me- but the touch is soft. Like a warm embrace from another deer.
So... very warm...

Day 26:
My pelt is sticking. I love the orange colour it's coming out in. I have new tines on my short antler growths. I'm glad that I've made it this far. But now, I look back at the smaller fawns and wish I could play so freely again. Too much play and some stags look down on me.
I still don't seem to understand what gender I am. I have antlers but nothing in the way of a ... staghood.

Day 27:
A tree fell in the forest, today. No one else was around to hear it. It made the most sickening-
crack.
My belly contracted and turned into knots. And I smelt blood somewhere in the depths of my mind. Tasted it. Stronger and stronger until I had to run for the pond to wash it out.
This has happened before... I have heard this noise- this pain in my head. The pressure in my neck. I have felt this before! I must have!
I must know why- no. I-... What has happened to me?

Day 28:
The... the more I breathe...the more I know...
I hear- such strange noises. Singing, warbling birds I have never heard before... Making... words...
Blow t-the- winds... the s-sails... Whiskey and... clear grey eyes...

It is time for change.