Sending good vibes,
One
P.S. My palate is perfectly refined, thank you. Just because I prefer the taste of herbs and sugar over the taste of piss doesn’t make me any less of a folk.
Sometimes, days passed, but the letters always turned up eventually.
Dear One,
You think I am a liar? After only two letters? Wow, you are quick to judge.
I won’t hold it against you.
I have not spent any silvers, don’t worry about that. I would, though, if I had to. It seems an outside force is keeping our correspondence going. Perhaps it is the fates. I am not going to complain about that either.
I do have a family. I miss them very much. I am not with them now, due to unfortunate circumstances, but I hope to return to them some time in the near future. I have recently moved away from them.
They are loud, and rambunctious, and annoying, but they are the best folk I know.
Where has your family gone, if that is alright to ask? Family doesn’t have to be blood related, I’m sure your neighbors are a full, loving, wonderful family.
I think I received some of those good vibes you sent.
So I’m sending them back.
Two
P.S. If you think that ale tastes like piss, then my opinion stands that your palate has a lot of work to do. It’s an acquired taste. Sugar water is for littles.
Two,
I’d say I’m a pretty good judge of character. If folk show you who you are, I think you should keep your eyes open and believe them.
To me, you seem like a good folk. So I am deciding that you are a good folk. And if your family is loud, rambunctious, AND annoying, they sound like they would be some of the best as well. I am glad that you have them.
I will admit, I’ve started to look forward to your letters. I find myself looking for them everywhere, searching for glimpses of paper wherever I go.
They aren’t always in the mailbox, isn’t that strange? The fates are mysterious, I guess.
Thank you,
One
P.S. I’ve upgraded to nicer paper, can you tell? I hope you appreciate it. I figured that if we are going to continue this, I might as well use some actual parchment instead of the crinkled stuff I was finding around my cottage.
Dear One,
I’ve caught myself looking forward to your letters as well. You are not alone in that.
When days are hard and my body is aching from my work, I find my mind wandering to when your next letter will find me. It is a strange sort of comfort. A distraction.
I find them in the mailboxes sometimes, but I find them in mysterious places as well. They even end up inside my cottage, isn’t thatalarmingstrange?
How have your days been faring, One? You were in a bad situation when you wrote your first letter. Have things gotten any better? I hope they have.
Yours,
Two
