Dear diary,

Running down the mountain in the early hours of the morning while it's foggy outside isn't a good idea, but I did anyway.

Somehow I didn't break any bones after I tripped and rolled down the road. Other than the bleeding gash on my arm and a couple scrapes everywhere, I didn't get any serious injuries.

Though the boy that was herding his families sheep didn't think so. He thought I was ghoul and ran to church to fetch the priest. I walked past the graveyard and was greeted by the warm, slightly tingly feeling of being hit by a bolt of holy lightning.

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I thought I was going to die, but all it did was patch me up and made it look like I didn't just fall halfway down the mountain. The boy got a talking to and the priest was practically begging on his knees for my forgiveness. It had something to do with violating his oaths or whatever.

Anyway, I said it was ok and even thanked him for healing me. He gave me some soup and I climbed back home.

That's basically how my morning went.

Love,

Tina