[The letter and envelope both are of a fine quality cream linen paper, addressed and written with a round, almost lilting sort of hand in a dark orchid ink.
And if there's a wax seal closing the envelope, with an embossed little feather and spider on it, shh, let him be Extra in peace!]
Dearest Amity,
Permit me to pen these words with a heart that is both apprehensive and hopeful, as I find myself embarking upon the delicate dance of correspondence with you. It is but a humble attempt to reach beyond the solitude that oft envelops me, a solitude occasionally punctuated by the tumultuous antics of our mutual 'host', Thirteen, and their ignominious games. Perhaps, in the exchange of our thoughts and reflections, we shall find a diversion most entertaining, a flicker of light upon which to focus our energies.
Though uncertainty shadows my endeavor, I am emboldened by the prospect that this written communion may serve as a balm to the soul—a quiet reprieve from the difficulties that life persistently casts upon our paths. For, indeed, the act of reaching out to another is a venture that I approach with the utmost caution, seldom undertaken and fraught with risk.
Yet, here I am, daring to extend a hand across the chasm of unfamiliarity, in hopes that you might graciously accept it. I confess, my friend, that I am prone to moments of undeserved indelicacy. My words, at times, may bear the sharpness of untamed candor. Nevertheless, I pledge to temper my tongue where your presence is concerned, should you be so kind as to offer me the gift of your patience.
In our exchanges, I envision a tapestry woven with humor and sincerity, a shared sanctuary wherein we might both find solace and delight. For in the midst of life's capricious games, it is the connections we forge that lend our existence its most profound meaning.
Should you be inclined to reciprocate this overture, I would be profoundly honored and most eager to partake in this venture together—an odyssey of words and sentiments that might make of simple acquaintances, good friends.
Awaiting your esteemed reply with hopeful anticipation,
Yours most sincerely,
[While there is no actual ink on the page in the space before his signature, there is the indentation of something scribbled out, as if a mistake was made in a previous draft and was dashed out in almost aggressive frustration.]
[Some time later, he receives a letter on pretty purple paper, and while the ink is dark, there's an undertone of glitter.]
Dear Quill,
Thank you so much for your letter! I was glad to receive it. These days back home it's a rare thing, as most of us use scrolls and talk through Penstagram. You write so elegantly! I hope you don't mind if I'm much less formal. It would be inauthentic if I wrote differently to match. Your letter was beautiful to read, though. I felt a bit like I was reading some romantic scroll from many, many years ago, written by a noble witch from an ancient royal family.
Did you feel better, writing the letter? I've found that it helps to calm my feelings a lot to write things down. It's why I've kept a diary since I was very small. Or perhaps it's getting a response that will help you. Regardless, I hope my letter finds you well.
I wouldn't worry about you being too indelicate. I never felt you were untoward or mean. A little blunt, maybe! But I'm no less guilty of that sometimes. So please feel free to be your authentic self, with me or with letters. If you say something I don't agree with, I won't hesitate to tell you so! I've gotten much better about speaking my mind in recent months compared to how I used to be, with adults. And I've always been pretty good at it (maybe TOO good at times) with my peers. So you'll hear from me if you step out of line! I do appreciate your restraint, however. I'll do the same. I think we can be good friends who support each other.
Let's see. I am not so skilled at long form writing, but how about a little story? Now that we're back in Folkmore proper and I've been reunited with Ghost, my palisman, she seems determined to make up for her absence by ridding the entire household of bugs. Every morning I wake up to a pile of them gathered in a box on my bedroom floor. I think she may actually be catching some from outside and bringing them in. It may be true that palismen echo their partners... she is going overboard, working too hard. But she looks so pleased with herself that I can't bring myself to ask her to slow down. Have you any need for bugs? (I've been letting them loose outside. I really have no use for them.)
I hope you're doing well, and that your home is in a good state after everything that happened. We might be cleaning for weeks, but things are looking up.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Bnnuy Letter Post
And if there's a wax seal closing the envelope, with an embossed little feather and spider on it, shh, let him be Extra in peace!]
Dearest Amity,
Permit me to pen these words with a heart that is both apprehensive and hopeful, as I find myself embarking upon the delicate dance of correspondence with you. It is but a humble attempt to reach beyond the solitude that oft envelops me, a solitude occasionally punctuated by the tumultuous antics of our mutual 'host', Thirteen, and their ignominious games. Perhaps, in the exchange of our thoughts and reflections, we shall find a diversion most entertaining, a flicker of light upon which to focus our energies.
Though uncertainty shadows my endeavor, I am emboldened by the prospect that this written communion may serve as a balm to the soul—a quiet reprieve from the difficulties that life persistently casts upon our paths. For, indeed, the act of reaching out to another is a venture that I approach with the utmost caution, seldom undertaken and fraught with risk.
Yet, here I am, daring to extend a hand across the chasm of unfamiliarity, in hopes that you might graciously accept it. I confess, my friend, that I am prone to moments of undeserved indelicacy. My words, at times, may bear the sharpness of untamed candor. Nevertheless, I pledge to temper my tongue where your presence is concerned, should you be so kind as to offer me the gift of your patience.
In our exchanges, I envision a tapestry woven with humor and sincerity, a shared sanctuary wherein we might both find solace and delight. For in the midst of life's capricious games, it is the connections we forge that lend our existence its most profound meaning.
Should you be inclined to reciprocate this overture, I would be profoundly honored and most eager to partake in this venture together—an odyssey of words and sentiments that might make of simple acquaintances, good friends.
Awaiting your esteemed reply with hopeful anticipation,
Yours most sincerely,
[While there is no actual ink on the page in the space before his signature, there is the indentation of something scribbled out, as if a mistake was made in a previous draft and was dashed out in almost aggressive frustration.]
Quill
pretend this arrived more timely
Dear Quill,
Thank you so much for your letter! I was glad to receive it. These days back home it's a rare thing, as most of us use scrolls and talk through Penstagram. You write so elegantly! I hope you don't mind if I'm much less formal. It would be inauthentic if I wrote differently to match. Your letter was beautiful to read, though. I felt a bit like I was reading some romantic scroll from many, many years ago, written by a noble witch from an ancient royal family.
Did you feel better, writing the letter? I've found that it helps to calm my feelings a lot to write things down. It's why I've kept a diary since I was very small. Or perhaps it's getting a response that will help you. Regardless, I hope my letter finds you well.
I wouldn't worry about you being too indelicate. I never felt you were untoward or mean. A little blunt, maybe! But I'm no less guilty of that sometimes. So please feel free to be your authentic self, with me or with letters. If you say something I don't agree with, I won't hesitate to tell you so! I've gotten much better about speaking my mind in recent months compared to how I used to be, with adults. And I've always been pretty good at it (maybe TOO good at times) with my peers. So you'll hear from me if you step out of line! I do appreciate your restraint, however. I'll do the same. I think we can be good friends who support each other.
Let's see. I am not so skilled at long form writing, but how about a little story? Now that we're back in Folkmore proper and I've been reunited with Ghost, my palisman, she seems determined to make up for her absence by ridding the entire household of bugs. Every morning I wake up to a pile of them gathered in a box on my bedroom floor. I think she may actually be catching some from outside and bringing them in. It may be true that palismen echo their partners... she is going overboard, working too hard. But she looks so pleased with herself that I can't bring myself to ask her to slow down. Have you any need for bugs? (I've been letting them loose outside. I really have no use for them.)
I hope you're doing well, and that your home is in a good state after everything that happened. We might be cleaning for weeks, but things are looking up.
Until next time, take care,
Amity