So, story starts of pretty simple. I was born, I hear bell. Naturally, I wanted to go find that bell. But I couldn’t run on foot, so I needed a horse. That proved to be a problem, as we only had one horse, who was constantly in use. Fast forward 15 years, I managed to get a horse, and tame him with a carrot. Now I needed a saddle. But all of our sheep were sheared. No problem, I got a bowl of gooseberries and a carrots, and got fleece. Except I forgot that in order to make a saddle, I needed sheep skin. I spent well over 15 years trying to get a saddle, because once I managed to get a sheep with wool again, it happened that somebody misplaced the knife. Once I found the knife, somebody sheered the sheep. At one point I gave up and tried to just tame a dog, which is actually how I stumbled upon the knife.
Finally, at age 33, I was ready to get a move on. I didn’t know how far away the city was, but I had a horse, so it shouldn’t take that long, right? Nope. I spent ten more years on that horse before I got careless and the horse got bitten by the snake. It didn’t have a cart, so I had to abandon it. I spent 3 more years walking before I got sick with yellow fever, almost starving to death. Then, right after, I finally had a stroke of luck- there was a tame horse with a cart running around with no rider. I grabbed the horse and continued on my path for 3 more years, until a snake once again bit my horse. So I went to go get rope. But to do that, I had to go through the marsh, where I ended up going through a thick batch of trees, where a boar happened to be waiting.
I blame the number three for all of my misfortunes in this life.