Bound to the Leg of a Messenger Hawk

Aog,

You are indeed required to contort your self to my every whim. I haven't the slightest idea however you got to thinking otherwise. As long as we are still discussing the weather, I'd be very appreciative if you used your particular talents to abolish wintertide next- who has ever sustained any feelings of happiness or even contentment during that dreadful season, aside from the fortnight or so of feasting at the solstice? One might argue that the bitter winds make the glow of the festival pyres all the warmer, but I see no reason why we cannot sup our stews among ivy and florets.

On a more serious note, whether it was a matter of conjuring or simply mere coincidence, I am most glad to report to you that there are no longer any grumblings about the welkin. Even as there has remained a stubborn film of haze between the sun and I, it had the most arresting of influences on his rays, which seemed to be as gentle, flaxen rivers of radiance, placidly flowing from its source on high. The heath looked quite wonderful, truly, and to my dismay that is far as the written script can suffice in recounting the scenery I was graced with. (Even swaddled like a babe in bandages and robes in my sedan-- they keep insisting I shall catch a chill from the mists and so I only get half-an-hour a day behind the balustrade of the terrace)

I know not if you really had anything to do with the sudden change in climate- I would expect one as adept with incantations as you to rid us of the haze, at the very least. But if by chance your hand did play a role behind it--and that is surely far from evident to me--

Thank you, Aog.

And thank you for filching those spirits for me-- do not worry, master thief, for none have seen the contents of this letter but I. And besides, if what you've taken is really as horrible as you have described, you are doing that man a generous service. But surely you can muster some more flattering description for our humble friend mead. I think you misunderstand exactly why I asked for it. Wine is wonderful for tasting, but I am looking to become very inebriated, very quickly. You have never been numbered among any knightly order so I don't expect you to fully understand-- let us just say that I'm feeling a bit nostalgic as of late. I think I've earned every right to be, at least for a little while.

Lastly, you needn't apologize for erring-- although it made your correspondence a bit difficult to read at times. I have had my suspicions that our goodly Aog Ridir was not indeed truly perfect, and now you have done me the service of confirming them. Still, I had wished it so in my heart of hearts and the sight of those wounded words pierced so cruelly by strike-throughs was another sudden shock to me, the second as of recent... perhaps even more distressing than the first. Are you trying to kill this poor, bedridden woman? I fainted straightaway merely glancing upon your haphazard deletions. He's mortal after all! My heart!

But if your intentions were not murderous-- which is hard to believe, yes-- then I do wonder why Sir Meticulous would send such a missive, special ink or no. Perhaps he would like to give a certain pitiable invalid something to hold over him- knowing that her spirits would be immeasurably brightened by such a prospect? Does he know how much she desires to hold something, anything, above the heads of those who tower above her clipped stature? Perhaps among the nettles and brambles of his shriveled heart there bloom a few roses...

Who am I fooling? He was merely too shiftless to compose another.

I look eagerly forwards to our reunion,
⚜Lacey Vadann⚜