It’s been three weeks already and I only got one of your letters. It’s been real frustrating not knowing what’s going on, and now I’m pissed because I have to write you a real bad letter right off the bat. I’m sorry. I hope this actually reaches you. I’m just sending it to the city with your name on it, like you said.
First off: I’ll be fine, I’m healing, don’t worry. But it’s been a real shit week for me, having to deal with the Watch and pain and stuff.
So I was walking home after family dinner when some asshole ambushed me and shoved me between some buildings, trying to attack me. Well, I mean, he did attack me. Smashed my face and neck up good. Looks like I spilled purple dye all over my face. I managed to fight back after a bit, punched his head into the wall, but I hurt my hand doing it. Ran off to find someone from the Watch, but sliced myself bad on the way out. Found Sam patrolling, he managed to grab the fucker. So he got caught at least.
The healer said I broke m he broke my collarbone, my wrist is sprained real bad, and I’m going to have a nasty scar on my hip. But my face should heal up fine.
Mum and Nellie are going crazy over me, it’s only been a day and I’m already over it. They won’t let me get out of bed and keep offering to keep me company. Sure, my arm’s in a sling but I didn’t break my leg — I can walk around! It’s real sweet of them and all, but I just want to be left alone. Can’t believe I let some bastard get the drop on me, especially when he couldn’t even take a punch. I’m so pissed off. I miss you. I want to hug you. I don’t even care about the sex right now, I just want to hold your hand with my good one. That’s not true, I always care about the sex. But you know what I mean. Please don’t show that part to Os.
I really hope things are going better for you down there. The stuff you talked about before leaving was awful and dangerous and you better be careful, Burns, or I’ll hobble my way down there and set you straight. Remember, you promised.
Oh, if you tell Os, could you keep an eye on him? I don’t know if him finding out is a good idea, but if you really need to talk about it, just try not to worry him too much. I don’t want him thinking he’s got to come running back home. I’m fine. I’m healing. It’s just bullshit and it sucks. Guess I got a lot of time on my hand, now. Get it? One hand. At least it’s my writing hand. You know what? I might actually write you that stupid book. I’ve got the time now. Hell, I’ll even name the characters Fronk and Kimmers.
I can’t wait until you’re back, Frank. It’s getting colder here and I think I saw some leaves changing color the other day. This is supposed to be your season. We’re supposed to throw leaves at each other and you’re supposed to mull more of that mead with your cousins and we should be hiding to make out in the pumpkin patches until they find us and––
Cor, the pain medicine is kicking in. I’d scratch out that last part, but I’m sure you’ll love it. I miss you. I love you so much, Frank. Don’t get hurt, and come back home when you can.
Your woad sprite (yes I love it, shut up),