For that matter I had never seen a domesticated pig.

The nearest approach to one that I had seen was breakfast bacon sizzling in its fat.

And yet here, real as life, wild boars dashed through my dreams, and I, with fantastic parents, swung through the lofty tree-spaces.
Do you wonder that I was frightened and oppressed by my nightmare-ridden nights?
I was accursed.

And, worst of all, I was afraid to tell.

I do not know why, except that I had a feeling of guilt, though I knew no better of what I was guilty.