.
The uniform had been designed with considerable care, both to comfort, and accessibility. I could sleep in it, or I could have an examination with the doctor, still wearing it. I'm fairly comfortable wearing it. It does exactly what it is supposed to, I'm warm in it, and it covers what needs to be covered. It is even decent for a nine year old girl like me, even if I wouldn't go as far as to go out, outside of the hospital, wearing it. In part, because I had had enough of it already.
I had gone to bed, just as I got back to the room, my room. I sleep in a single room, and alone. There is but the one bed in the room, and nothing more. I could ask for a new uniform each and every day, or they would ask me to change after a week. I had asked on my own accord, every other day. This saved me the awkwardness of them insisting on it, besides, it feels fresh, when I got the new one, even if it is identical to the one I wore the day before. It is fresh, and had been washed out, it is all I need.
I guess I could have slipped the boots off. Yet I can sleep in them, just as easily as not. I'm sure I've slept in them a few times. They felt surprisingly natural to wear an entire day, and I could imagine I was 'barefoot', while wearing them, short of the small detail with the tactile sensations I had, while wearing them, I just can't compare it, in a way that would make sense out of it.
I feel the floor under the boots, more as if it had been hooves, even if my experience isn't quite to the point I can claim I knew. What I could say, is that I feel anything under the soul of the boot, in a fashion that feels as if it is how it would feel, had it been hooves, rather than the boots on my feet.
Having my feet bent in an angle, adjusting my posture didn't bother me, not from the second day here. If it had, it was already overshadowed by everything else. I guess I was starting to be bored by the place already.
As I woke up, I pulled the quilt off of me, just as I had the day before, and the week before. Just as I had, every morning. I didn't think of it at first, but I guess I did notice it, as I was setting my hooves down onto the floor. It was something that just did not feel as it had the day before.
If it is the boredom making me sensitive, or it made me less sensitive to this, who's to say? What happened, as the hoof hit the floor, is that I felt the floor, as if I actually had placed a hoof on the floor, not a foot in a boot.
Looking down, I noticed what had happened. It isn't just the lack of the boots I had worn the day before. I could clearly make out the hooves, now the same four inches wide as the boots had been. Only the tactile sensitivity is entirely different. Where my heels had been is several inches higher up from the floor, the same goes for my knees.
The most interesting thing is that my hooves are blue, I guess, but not just electric but now with a metallic hue to them. Looking and feeling as if they had been more elastic like rubber, if I had to put it that way?
I purposefully ignored the lack of boots, the once I had left down in the library the day before. I can't wear them now, they were made for a little girl with regular girls' feet. I have no such feet now. These are pony hooves. As unusual as they may look, even if you ignored the fact that they are a part of the same girl as I had been the day before.
I nonchalantly walked around, pretending I was wearing the boots, just for the joy of seeing how long it was to take them, before they realized I'm not wearing them. I was in fact bare hoofed, just as I had been since the day before. Would they notice, and would they realize what had happened the day before?
Even if they noticed it, recognized what had happened, could they reverse it, if they wanted to. Did they in fact prefer me the way I am now, rather than how I had been when I had been signed in.
Now, as I look back at it, my tail had grown to its full length, which is a foot from the floor, while standing upright. I can move it as if I had been born with it, if and when I so chose to, which amused me greatly.
My skirt had to stay pushed down in order to go with the tail, which was amusing. I had to admit to that much. The top isn't affected in the slightest, since nothing had changed above my waist. In a way, I guess I am thankful for it, after all.
The one thing that had to stand out, is the colour of the hide sticking out under my skirt, since it hardly could be taken for the natural skin tone of a little girl. It's a vibrant cerise, and a nicely florescent at that. I'm going to stand out, no matter what.
I guess I did enjoy how quiet my hooves are, compared with the boots I had been wearing the entire week before. I'd compare it with walking bare foot, since it is the closest I could come up with. Maybe that would be a comparison as to how it feels to walk too.
Just like any hooves, the soul is sensitive, but the outer surface is hard, and not all that sensitive. I guess it is something I just had to get used to. It is a bit like the nails on my toes, before my feet changed into what they are now.
I never had started painting my nails. At age nine, I guess it wasn't that common. I can still paint the nails of my fingers, when I get to the age where I may feel inclined to do so, but I will never have my toe nails painted, since I have none, I have hooves in their place, and I had no need to paint them now. They are already blue. Besides, I like them the way they are, and I doubt regular nail polish would work, aside from the fact that I'd use up more than a bottle, for each hoof, if I wanted to try.