August 18th, 1868

I didn’t do much yesterday. I lazed around the castle a bit, playing with the cats and reading and such.

But today, however, one of my cats, Juniper, had kittens! Eight of them! That’s an excellent number for a first time mother and even just cats in general. Three of them are very sickly for some reason. Mari promised she’d take a look at them tomorrow. I haven’t decided on names for them yet, just in case the three sickly ones pass on. Mother warned me the first time one of my cats had kittens not to get attached to them immediately. I did.

The poor little things were born during a very frigid winter, in the Barn no less, and even though I had a fire and everything for them, all five of them died two days later. I cried for hours after I found them. I shall miss Sprout, Twig, Flower, Buddy, and Patch dearly. Their mother, Fern, lived a full 18 years and had twenty-three more litters after her first. 

There are quite a few cats that wander around the Valley. I only know the whereabouts of five of them, because they prefer to stay indoors. There's more than just cats in the Valley. The cats are just my favorite, which is why I devote so much of my attention to them. We always have at least six horses in the stables, a herd of sheep (for wool), normally ten female cattle (for milk) and one bull, and of course chickens. Lots of chickens. There’s also a few goats that live on the cliffs. I hate the goats. Once, when I was 9, I went exploring by the cliffs (I question this now, why did Mother and Father let me wander alone?) and came upon the herd. They all screamed at me, taunting me with their slitted pupils. A few of them nipped at my dress. Then they chased me away from the cliffs. I ran as fast as I could, and didn't stop until I'd shut the front door of the castle behind me.

Rion and Lani liked to mess around with them. They'd levitate the goats, juggling them in the air. At one point I think they accidently lit a few of the goats on fire. The goats fought back though, so my brothers say. The goats would charge at them, making feeble attempts to claim the cliffs. But even after coming home several times with a broken bone from a head-butting, Rion and Lani always went back to torment them again. I thank them for it, someone needed to teach those things a lesson. Now that they've gone, I'm sure the goats have gotten full of themselves once more.

I haven't recieved a letter from Corin yet. Well, there's always tomorrow.