It was a day of joy! That much was certain. What a beautiful day!

The air carried the delicate scents of grass, herbs, and wildflowers, while the sunlight beat down on her, just the way she liked it.

She lingered a bit longer, enjoying the caresses of her master. He was kind to her, knew exactly where and how she liked to be touched. After a while, once she felt satisfied, she set off cheerfully on her usual walk.

"Off you go, my girl," she heard him say as she walked away.

All around the outer walls, enormous fabrics in the colors of lavender, mint, and chamomile were hanging. A little girl stopped nearby and fixed her large, beautiful eyes on her in admiration. She could feel it too—she truly was beautiful today. The girl offered her a half-eaten apple, which she accepted, not because she was hungry of course, but out of politeness. It wouldn't do to be rude.

With a light bounce in her step, she made her way proudly through the cobblestone alleys, soaking in the atmosphere of the bustling celebration. Today, the city's noise drowned out the dainty sound of her proud steps against the carved stone. Two passersby had stopped a little further along, speaking so loudly they could be heard over the hum of the crowd: "A historic day," one said, "the Coronation!" She didn't understand what they were talking about and didn't pay much attention. Neither to the words, nor to those staring at her or pointing fingers. They were smiling—that was what mattered. Everyone was smiling today, everyone was happy.

"What are we going to eat?" a child's voice called out through the noise. Truly, what would so many people gathered here eat? No matter—food was always plentiful, especially here in the South.

They had set up so many tents and stalls, and filled the place with meat. She didn't like meat, never understood how others could eat it. It had a horrific smell that chilled her blood or made her want to run far away. But how could she run? The stench affected her so strongly once, she had collapsed flat on her back, completely paralyzed, the silly thing. She'd never felt such panic.

And the flies! Oh, those flies. Wherever there was meat, they followed. And they bit—no joke. They went for the spots you couldn't reach to shoo them away, and they drove you mad! Still, they were living creatures too, poor things...

She climbed the hill upon which the old city was built. The distant bleating from the fields caught her attention for a moment, carried by the wind, but she quickly returned her focus to her usual path. She loved it up there; she loved climbing the rocks and gazing at the view ever since she was little. She thought of her mother. It had been years since she'd seen her, but she knew she'd be happy somewhere, too.

But there was no room for sadness! Even now, as the good days were ending and the cold was soon to come and the leaves would wither, she knew it wouldn't last long. Nature would become beautiful again, green would spread everywhere. Even during Wilt, nature was beautiful.

The old city was even more crowded. Everyone was heading toward the central square and the temple, as the warmest part of the day approached. She followed them out of curiosity.

There they all were! In the same colors as before, of mint, chamomile, and lavender—and with music and sounds pouring from great brass instruments and round drums that looked like giant hazelnuts. And with so many scents, perhaps more than her nostrils could bear. Some were sweet and fresh, others reminded her of a pigsty. She stopped to investigate this curious event, but her height didn't help, so she decided to climb the wall.

A little while later, she made it. From there, she could see everything. Maybe not as clearly as being close, but she could see everyone: humans, dwarves, elves, and creatures she'd never seen before, shaking hands, embracing, dancing together. Ah! What a happy day.

Not long ago, everyone had been sad. The city had shut its great wooden gates. She and her master had gone inside the castle and left their home unprotected. She hadn't wanted to, and her poor master had to carry her in his arms because she wouldn't listen. It was the only time she had disobeyed him so badly—fear had overtaken her. But she felt she had to protect her nest. Flames had seemed to climb the walls, and the whole region had been gripped by anxiety. She'd climbed the walls then too, again out of curiosity, and saw all those parsley-colored creatures standing in the fields. The same awful smell of meat had been in the air. Those had not been good days. But today was a very beautiful day. That was what mattered.

She looked toward where the strange creatures once stood and saw only tents and little wooden stalls set up by the visitors, as far as the eye could see. On the other side, of course, was the sea. Ah, the sea breeze would do her good, now that the heat had burned her up.

She descended, leaving behind the noise of the city. She decided to take the short path to the sea. It was a little more dangerous, but she'd never feared a descent. Or a climb! She was made to climb. It gave her such joy—she never understood why. No one could explain it. Yet for her, it felt like fulfilling her life’s purpose.

When she finally reached the rocks down by the crashing waves, she paused to admire the color of the sea. It usually reminded her of pennyroyal, but sometimes at this hour, it changed with the light and looked like the fire that burned in the hearths. It was strange how the cool water could resemble the hot flame—it fascinated her. As did the fact that this water couldn’t be drunk, while the river nearby was perfectly fine! She always forgot, and the salt reminded her rudely each time. What a silly thing she was sometimes!

The watery flame didn’t scare her, not like the real one. She could tell them apart by their smell, their sound, and their movement—unless she was very far.

She sat a while in the shade of a rock by the sea, to rest. She had taken a long walk, and she’d have so much to share when she returned. Her master always seemed interested and eager to listen, always answered patiently until she understood.

She had enjoyed herself, but she couldn’t go back completely hungry. That would make a bad impression—coming back whining for food wouldn’t be right. She decided to take the long route home and grab a bite on the way.

She knew a spot near the river where the tastiest berries grew. She had to watch out for the thorns, though, because they grabbed hold of your skin and didn’t let go. Getting out was a pain, but they were worth it! Oh, if only she could bring some home. But that was hard—they were so small and delicate. She would try again, even if she didn’t expect much. At the very least, she’d rinse her salty mouth in the river’s cool, clear water. No, she would take a full bath! After all, she always got dirty eating berries, and then no one believed she had an empty stomach.

Once she grew tired, she made her way back to her master. She always returned. He loved her dearly and showed it, even though she was getting old. She had no reason to make him sad.

But he was not as she left him. He wasn’t smiling. He sat there, grim, and his eyes didn’t meet hers. She tried in vain to comfort him with her usual antics and games. Tried in vain to catch his gaze, which now seemed a little tired. He must have his own worries, poor soul—he had so many every day.

She settled in her place. She thought she caught a faint trace of that terrible smell again, but thankfully, her kind master had filled her home with thyme to cover it.

He stood up and began sharpening his knives, alone in his own space. She had never seen him use them, but he often took care of them.

"Sacrifice," she heard him say.

She didn’t know what that word meant. But then again, she didn’t know many things.

Only that she was a very happy goat!

And that it was such a beautiful day.