Finn's Letters to Brysie, #2
There is an orange-red firebloom carefully pressed between wax paper and folded in with this letter, which is written on the same papyrus as the last. It is a response to her 2nd letter.
Dear Brysie,
Light, lass. For all that the seas are beautiful, I think the land has so many amazing things to offer. I wager you must be witnessing some stunning sights, travelling as you are. I hope you are keeping a journal and writing everything down, so you never forget it. I returned to the ship late, late last night to find that another letter was here. I took it down to my room -- tis a small one, really only a closet with a hammock and a cabinet, but tis mine -- to read. I’m surprised to get something else from you so soon, but happy. Really happy. I needed it.
The thought of you making a snow family makes me laugh. I’m sure you did fine as a kid, and your parents probably thought the world of the sculptures you made for them. It’s the passion that matters, Brysie, not whether something could be placed in the Museum in Ironforge. Did you ever make buildings and castles from the snow? Once, Kavanaugh and I made a sand city so big that it took hours to create, then filled it with little ghost crabs. I wanted them to march in formation, but he said they ought to wander wherever their legs took them. At the time I was angry and we ended up getting into a brawl that knocked down half our city, but looking back I think he was probably right. The Light gave us feet so we can walk on them, and wanderlust so we can indulge it. Life’s too short to stand in line with everyone else and follow the orders of someone who doesn’t understand you. I guess that’s why I like being a sailor, because I get to explore the world my way, do something I love, and I work for someone who might as well be a siren for all that she shares that love.
You sound happy. Those people are blessed to have you travelling along with them, if only for a little while, and it’s safer for you, too. It sounds like Ashenvale is a rotten place to be right now, and I’ll be worried until you let me know how Stonetalon is. Tell me if the mountains are as magnificent as they sound, and the Kaldorei settlements as breath-taking, aye? I don’t know if Neltharion did as much damage there as elsewhere.
Here in Tanaris, the coastline has changed. It used to go out much farther, but the Shattering pushed it in nearly to the walls of Gadgetzan. I keep thinking how those are the same waters that used to roll on to the shores of Kul Tiras, and maybe Mahir played in the surf that they made. I know that boy loves the sea like I do. One time w
This is melancholy stuff. When I give you these letters, I don’t want them to do anything but make you smile, so let me tell you about the flower I included. It’s firebloom. I was coming through the desert from Uldum, saw it poking out from a pile of sandstone at the windward side of a dune, and I thought you might like it. There was a scorpid nearby the size of a small dog that I had to stomp my feet and wave my hands at to pick the flower, though. I don’t know if he was scared of me, or if he was going off to find his scorpid friends and laugh about the silly sailor, but either way, I ended up with what I was looking for.
Perhaps you will, too.
Fondly,
Finn.
Dear Brysie,
Light, lass. For all that the seas are beautiful, I think the land has so many amazing things to offer. I wager you must be witnessing some stunning sights, travelling as you are. I hope you are keeping a journal and writing everything down, so you never forget it. I returned to the ship late, late last night to find that another letter was here. I took it down to my room -- tis a small one, really only a closet with a hammock and a cabinet, but tis mine -- to read. I’m surprised to get something else from you so soon, but happy. Really happy. I needed it.
The thought of you making a snow family makes me laugh. I’m sure you did fine as a kid, and your parents probably thought the world of the sculptures you made for them. It’s the passion that matters, Brysie, not whether something could be placed in the Museum in Ironforge. Did you ever make buildings and castles from the snow? Once, Kavanaugh and I made a sand city so big that it took hours to create, then filled it with little ghost crabs. I wanted them to march in formation, but he said they ought to wander wherever their legs took them. At the time I was angry and we ended up getting into a brawl that knocked down half our city, but looking back I think he was probably right. The Light gave us feet so we can walk on them, and wanderlust so we can indulge it. Life’s too short to stand in line with everyone else and follow the orders of someone who doesn’t understand you. I guess that’s why I like being a sailor, because I get to explore the world my way, do something I love, and I work for someone who might as well be a siren for all that she shares that love.
You sound happy. Those people are blessed to have you travelling along with them, if only for a little while, and it’s safer for you, too. It sounds like Ashenvale is a rotten place to be right now, and I’ll be worried until you let me know how Stonetalon is. Tell me if the mountains are as magnificent as they sound, and the Kaldorei settlements as breath-taking, aye? I don’t know if Neltharion did as much damage there as elsewhere.
Here in Tanaris, the coastline has changed. It used to go out much farther, but the Shattering pushed it in nearly to the walls of Gadgetzan. I keep thinking how those are the same waters that used to roll on to the shores of Kul Tiras, and maybe Mahir played in the surf that they made. I know that boy loves the sea like I do. One time w
This is melancholy stuff. When I give you these letters, I don’t want them to do anything but make you smile, so let me tell you about the flower I included. It’s firebloom. I was coming through the desert from Uldum, saw it poking out from a pile of sandstone at the windward side of a dune, and I thought you might like it. There was a scorpid nearby the size of a small dog that I had to stomp my feet and wave my hands at to pick the flower, though. I don’t know if he was scared of me, or if he was going off to find his scorpid friends and laugh about the silly sailor, but either way, I ended up with what I was looking for.
Perhaps you will, too.
Fondly,
Finn.