[The returning letter isn't hasty, per se, because even when under duress, Teren isn't rash. But she does respond, in her careful, unpolished lettering, with a smattering of grammatical errors and incorrect capitalizations resulting from learning to write well into her adulthood.]
Benevenuta,
I am sorry for failing to write. I suppose I'd thought you wouldn't want me to, which is to say perhaps I've been a Fool, which comes as no surprise to me or likely you either. I have been well. Mostly the usual Wardening rubbish, darkspawn, uncovering treacheries, prying dwarfs from beneath dying ogres, nothing that I imagine would interest you. Our branch of the Inquisition has relocated to Kirkwall, where I live with the others in a great ugly stone building in the aptly-named Gallows. I would sleep outside instead, but having determined that this place is more than a little Haunted perhaps I will not press my luck so boldly.
A couple Venatori have arrived recently, I want nothing to do with them but I imagine you would have fun with them. It would seem I have also acquired a Druffalo, who will not go away. His name is Boots. My hope is that he will someday step on Oghren and Rid us of him, but in the meantime I will settle for butting Howe with his head into a Mud puddle and staining his breeches. I suppose if ever Boots outlives his usefullness we can just Eat him.
Having outlived my Own usefullness in many ways I am fortunate not to be Livestock.
I hope you and your mother are well. I have enclosed a Comb which I found in Hightown for your pretty hair. It is no proper appology but I hope it will be enough for now.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-22 07:07 am (UTC)Benevenuta,
I am sorry for failing to write. I suppose I'd thought you wouldn't want me to, which is to say perhaps I've been a Fool, which comes as no surprise to me or likely you either.
I have been well. Mostly the usual Wardening rubbish, darkspawn, uncovering treacheries, prying dwarfs from beneath dying ogres, nothing that I imagine would interest you. Our branch of the Inquisition has relocated to Kirkwall, where I live with the others in a great ugly stone building in the aptly-named Gallows. I would sleep outside instead, but having determined that this place is more than a little Haunted perhaps I will not press my luck so boldly.
A couple Venatori have arrived recently, I want nothing to do with them but I imagine you would have fun with them. It would seem I have also acquired a Druffalo, who will not go away. His name is Boots. My hope is that he will someday step on Oghren and Rid us of him, but in the meantime I will settle for butting Howe with his head into a Mud puddle and staining his breeches. I suppose if ever Boots outlives his usefullness we can just Eat him.
Having outlived my Own usefullness in many ways I am fortunate not to be Livestock.
I hope you and your mother are well. I have enclosed a Comb which I found in Hightown for your pretty hair. It is no proper appology but I hope it will be enough for now.
Yours Always,
Teren