Its been 13 days since my birth. The other goblin children and I still breastfeed, but only when we sleep. We are about the same size as our caretakers. We also lost our babylike features by the 9th day. Not like we were cute, but our babyfaces were millions of times better than the grown-up face we have now. Our bodies have changed, as well. Before we walked with a hunchback by the 7th day, our backs have straightened out. Our knees are still bent slightly, though.

Today was just like any regular day for us. We sit around talking about trivial things. I began teaching them to speak in a more civilized manner. Hopefully, I can start teaching them how to read, but I doubt that the letters in this world are the same as my language's. The caretakers have brought in another baby deer for us to eat. However, this time, it was only half of what we usually get.

Out of curiosity, I walked up to my caretaker to ask about today's meal. "Excuse me, why is today's meal so small?"

"Cause cold. Not lot deer left."

"Cold?"

"Yes. Cold. Snowfall soon. Need to save meat. Go eat now." She told, motioning to the carcass. I walked over to it with my friends already surrounding it and dividing the portions. I don't recall deers migrating based on seasons. Sure they would make a journey as long as 300 miles away, but from what I remembered from my past life, this was more of a rarity. Herds would usually 'migrate' 15 to 20 miles, going down in elevation as far as they need to. Maybe it's different in this world, or at least this part of the world.

Speaking of which, I have also been dreaming about my past life. I still can't recount names, and certain events are still blurry, and some are just straight up a messy. The most accurate information I can remember were usually trivial stuff or a particular portion of my memories. But I can piece enough information to know what type of person I was.

I was a human male that grew up in a modestly sized city. I had a friend who was huge and intimidating but was an honest and gentle person. I had a mentor who had a peculiar name, the Catholic Bear. He got that name because he was Catholic. I was also Catholic, so there was a connection there. He was a hero, but he wasn't. My father was in another foreign country working as a taxi driver so that 'bear' was the closest thing I have to a father.

My mother was a gentlewoman, but she was in no way a pushover. Every time some kids outside my neighborhood come to bully, my mom would not hesitate to get her broomstick and chase those kids away. She may not be a hero, but she was my hero. But I can't have her protect me forever, so I started to learn how to fight. First, I did boxing with my giant friend. Then I did Brazilian jujitsu. The bear helped me with honing my fighting abilities. He hoped I would join the militia, though, but I was only doing this for self-defense.

But now, it's a different story. My current mother isn't exactly kind or lively, nor was my birth something she was looking forward to having. I dreamed once my past mother would tell me stories of how she fought her family for her to be with my father and give life to me.

My new friends are also very different. Rock would be the only one here that resembles my old friend. They're both giants in their own right, but while the old one is gentle by nature, Rock is in a constant focus when it comes to controlling his strength. My others are... Now that I think about it, I don't remember my other friends. Did I even have more than one?

"Hey, are you ok?" Smoke said, looking at me. "You have that weird face on you again."

Did he say I have a weird face? "Sorry, I was just thinking about something."

"What were you thinking about? Is it important?" He said as he shoves down meat in his mouth.

Smoke is a very caring guy. Stick and Rock probably see us as the big brothers of the group. One is the teacher, teaching the little one while the other is the dependable one, always looking out for you. "Nothing important. My mind just... you know... it went somewhere else."

"Somewhere else?"

"Well, don't get distracted from the food. Flute mentioned to the other caretakers that this would be our last meal." Flute was the head caretaker in the barn.

"Don't worry. I'm still eating."

"Good. Tomorrow, we go out for our first hunt. We need to eat well tonight."

"And eat well, we will. Also, I taught some plans for our first..." I looked down at my portion of the meal. I noticed that I was missing at least a quarter of it "What the? Who took my food... Stick!"

"What? You were not eating. Like its better to eat it myself than to let it rot." Stick said as he gobbles down more food. Despite his size, Stick has a near bottomless appetite. It may be due to lax disciplinary action towards him since he was small, he couldn't really harm anyone even if he tries.

Now he is as large as us, just a bit thinner. He is also quicker and have a great deal of athleticism. Combine that with his cleverness and bravery, and you'll get an old classic goblin.

"That's true," Rock said while nodding in agreement. "You always tell us to be resourceful."

I couldn't help but laugh. These goblins grew up to be somewhat human-like. They do not give in to their instinct or desires as quickly as other goblins, nor do they act based on their emotions — most of the time. Stick continues to gobble down the food that he stole from me. But I am the better man, and I would never attempt to avenge this injustice with foul play — wink wink.

The days have been getting colder now, and if what my caretaker said was true, then tomorrow will be our harshest trial yet. How would we find our first deer? What will happen if we do catch it? So we gave some away to the tribe as a form of payment, or is goblin society more like communism? Everyone has equal ownership of our kill. I tilt my head towards Smoke. Smoke was about to open his mouth to say something. I interrupted. "I'm making that face again, aren't I?

"Yes." He said while grinning. "If you're worried about tomorrow, just stop thinking about it. We'll find a way through this. We got through our hunger pains; we are growing stronger every day. Hunting a deer will be easy. Stick is fast enough to catch a deer, probably."

"Probably?" I sneered back.

He laughed. "Yup! And then there is Rock, who can wrestle a big one for us. And then there's us two. We may not as fast as Stick or strong as Rock. But I doubt a deer can escape us.

"Yeah, that's true."

We returned to our mothers after the meal. They can move their bodies now, but barely. The best they could do was move their limbs slightly. I sat next to my mother. I put my hand on her hand, and she held them tightly. I don't know what she's thinking, but her eyes are gentler now. I began to tell her about my day. How I started to teach my friends how to box and told her about deers and how close winter is coming closer. She closes her eyes while listening to my stories. Suddenly, I heard a loud banging sound coming from the front doors of the barn.

Flute opens a crack on the door. "What is it?" She asked.

"Can mate women now?" The goblin outside answered.

When I heard the goblin say that, reality hit me like a truck. Once we grow up, what will happen to my mother? Will they **** her again? No, I can't let that happen.