The cold has grown sharp this season; I pray you are eating well and resting warmly. My longing for home grows…
The cold has grown sharp this season; I pray you are eating well and resting warmly.
My longing for home grows with each passing day, often keeping me from sleep...
Lately, while on watch at the beacon tower, I've heard strange sounds in the night—sharp clangs and eerie cries that defy description. Yet this land is nothing but barren sand, bleak and desolate, with only a few crows in the sky...
Is it some strange beast or otherworldly bird? Or is my sleeplessness weaving phantoms from my thoughts?
Tomorrow, when I am on watch, I will venture beyond the tower to investigate.
Your devoted son