; eachdraidh appointments

[shamanism]

THIS BIRD IS FUCKING TALKING?

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[shamanism]

[Thrall is surprised to see a giant box roll in. He's even more surprised when he sees who it's from. Hiro? Did he send a whole suit of armor? Spirits. But then he has a peek inside, and it's... books. So many books.

He's shocked and touched and he actually takes a moment to collect himself (for the benefit of the curious passersby). And then he begins the task of dragging the box through the trading post and down the back stairs. That part is... not as graceful as he'd like, but he's ridiculously strong so he manages it.

After carefully cataloging each new addition to his collection (and reorganizing by author and genre), he sits down to write Hiro a fancy letter. The reminder for a free 'commission' also sits on his desk, pinned down by a rock paperweight. He dips his quill and begins.

(He could just call Hiro through his pendant-- but he doesn't. There is something nice about letters.)]

Hiro,

Your generous gift honors me, and it honors the memory of my sister. I cannot thank you enough. Truthfully, despite being a landowner and my near-year spent in the Drabwurld, I own very little. Even the books I have are borrowed. You have given me something exquisite this year: the gift of knowledge. I appreciate the offer as well. Do you remember our first conversation? I am still very much interested in whatever you would like to create; I'll gladly help you however I can.

You claim I have taught you a lot, but I've learned many things on my side as well. Your world is incredible and your genius is something I have never seen before. Tossed headlong and alone into an unfamiliar world did not slow you down or make you give up. Even at your age you are burdened with grief and responsibility, and you have not rebuffed my concerns... It's only natural, I suppose, since we have some things in common.

If you ever feel like it is too much to bear, you know how to contact me. I have very broad shoulders, so I can hold your troubles for a while. Alternatively, there is a room beneath the trading post that only I can access. No one will bother you there. The lingering scent of coffee seems to improve concentration.

Your friend,
Thrall