Cold Ink

You read what is written on a herbally infused sheet of green stationery:
[ The handwriting along this letter is slanted and scrawling, the writer
clearly lacking in any proper penmanship. However, there is an
undeniable charm to it, perhaps afforded by the occasion doodle on the
edge of the letter, a flower here, a plump elephant there. ]

Dear Mister Avaris,

I keep missing when you are awakes, or you are busy! So, maybe this
letter with catch yous, yes. I know you said it would be unlikelys that
you would want a talk, with mes. But, do not mean I am to lecture you,
or tell you how to bes. I just want to see yous, and want to see yous
happy. And have funs! Are one of my best baking friends, yes. We can
make cookies agains! I have thought over more recipies, and found one
that is not super sugary.

We could also make mochi! There are many shapes, that we could make.
Fishes, pigs, bunnies... even probably kepheras! Though, that might be
very hard. Chubby moths? Hm. I am digressings.

I ... know what it is like, to sit in darkness. To see the light slip
from your surroundings and to be left in the cold. People may tell you,
it is good, that cold. It will stiffen you. But all it does is make you
numb to the hurt in your chest. Is why we need people who will be warm
to us, even when we feel like we only deserve the cold. They thaw us
from the outsides in, and bring the sunlight into our boughs. I needed
my parents. Will admit that readily. It is okay to need to talk to
someone. So do not think that by suffering in silence, you are noble or
honorable. Is just suffering.

I care about you very muchly. Think of you as one of my best friends,
even if you do not feel the same ways backs. So let me be a friend to
you, and we can do some fun things, yes.

With much love,
Cheliyi.
A herbally infused sheet of green stationery is holding:
"cake388085"                  a Blessed Isle cake

This small single-tiered cake has been covered with marzipan that has
had a blue glaze painted over it. Meticulously crafted from yellow icing
and painstakingly covered with brown sugar to look like sand, an island
has been placed in the centre. Shaped from leftover marzipan a small
hermit crab has been placed on the northern edge of the island, its
shell glinting with a multi-coloured glaze. Also inhabiting the island
is a marzipan figure of a merian priestess, covered with a green-blue
glaze and expertly sculpted robes.

((Avaris' response.))

[The penmaship of this letter is almost brutal in its cold, stark delivery, all sharp lines and angles. There is no ornament, no flourish, and no warmth in either its manner or its contents.]

Cheliyi,

I have no desire to make foodstuffs, nor partake of them.

Do you? I do not think that you do. Yours was a darkness with the presence of others within it. This is an absence. There is no warmth here, no light. There is nothing within me to be thawed. I neither need nor desire to talk to anyone, least of all someone who mistakes me for one that views this torment as noble. It is just pain. There is nothing honourable about it.

I will endure this alone. Do not seek me again. You will not enjoy what you find.

Avaris