- Neth 1:
The road to Lepidstadt is clear and beautiful, thus far. It feels so good, and yet so wretched, to travel again. Were she here, Anasi would doubtless tell me that no feeling cannot be overcome, that we are vagabonds– that the road is in our blood and that I shall enjoy myself more as we continue this journey –but she’s not here, and even if she were I doubt her words would have much impact upon me. The fire is warm and my companions are amiable, but my bedroll is cold and lonely. I miss your coddling already.
We stopped at one of the farmsteads on our way out of Ravengro, a youth there gave Bareet a kitten to keep as a pet. He’s named him Pishee and he’s carried him in his vest since the creature was acquired. The little thing won’t stop its mewling… It’s endearing but I worry that Pishee shall be viewed more pleasantly than his owner, though, admittedly, he does have only one eye.
Other than the acquiring of Pishee, not much of interest occurred today. Rhialla has had some issues with Roan. She’s been attempting to teach him how to fight and the little bear cub has become over enthusiastic, as he was the day he mauled that farmer. He’s not hurt anyone as of yet, but he lets out a fierce-some little roar whenever another traveler passes us by, and I fear he’s bowled me over several times today. If I’m not careful, he might eat myself or Bareet– though he seems adverse to Pishee.
My aunt Kinny used to say that a letter cast into the fire finds its recipient in their dreams– or the Bandagann, if they’re dead. If that were true I would gladly sleep the day away on Auroch’s back, in hopes of receiving word from you. I’ll write again tomorrow.
- Neth 2:
I was not expecting my first letter to reach you so soon, or to hear back from you so swiftly, but I am pleasantly surprised. The road gives us no troubles yet. The weather is turning, doubtless you are aware, as winter approaches. The walking warms my feet and tickles my hair. Though I fear my feet may have grown soft (as my desire for travel did) during the time spent in Ravengro, I do not regret it. Perhaps I will return after the conclusion of our business in Lepidstadt, perhaps I’ll sweep you off your feet and together we might tour the region for a while- forget the ills and troubles of this year, and seek the good.
Bareet still carries his cat about his person. He coddles it so gently. Tis an odd pairing and though the circumstances are vastly different, it reminds me of us. It reminds me of how you would hold me in your arms and sing to me; how you sang to me the night I saw you in the Maiden, how you sang me back to sleep when my nightmares woke us both.
Tonight in camp Bareet set Pishee down and the kitten followed him all about before romping off into the darkness. He looked so worried! Our Bareet, can you imagine? The kitten returned shortly without incident and brought with him a dead little bug which he presented to Bareet. Pishee then harassed Mal and Sir Auroch, though he seems to be steering clear of Rhialla and Roan. He might be a brave kitten but even he does not seem up to such a challenge.
She… Anasi… wasn’t in my dreams last night, and I hope she doesn’t return tonight. I slept peacefully last night but when I awoke I missed your warmth. As I said in my last letter, my bedroll is cold and lonely; I hope that you do not feel the same of your bed, you’ve said Vesorianna left you feeling cold.
- Neth 15:
Ona. Ona sekhen. She won’t leave. She won’t go to the Bandagann. Every night still, she comes. I didn’t want to worry you, I don’t want to worry the others, but she keeps coming. Every night. Every night. I heard her knocking on the door last night, I felt her on the pallet: I thought for a second I was in Ravengro with you, but when I opened my eyes she was there, staring at me blankly. Sete’sa– Every night she comes, every night. Always silent, always sad, always there. She keeps coming. The tales the others used to tell us can’t be true can they? My mind is I can’t, I don’t know that I can continue like this.
During the day thoughts of her, memories of her, haunt me and keep me sad, and at night she’s in my dreams. I can’t tell the others –haven’t told the others–
can’t tell the others. Everything keeps rising and falling, rising and falling. I hadn’t slept for days, every time –every time– she kept coming, two or three times or sometimes more, always there. Like before but worse, there was no one to hold me, no one to calm me afterward, only the darkness of the night. Nights without stars, dark skies, the wheel has eaten everything.
Last night I slept, I thought she was you– I’m so tired of this, I’m so sad and sorry and all I can think about is her today, I’m so tired that writing this is difficult. I want to
kep –keep– going but I don’t know that I can.
The others should’ve returned from that place by now, from returning the books, I don’t know what’s taking them so long. I don’t know what I’m going to do, after I send this letter. I need to sleep but I can’t, I need to grieve for her but she won’t leave. Na seine niverahna mah’la.