[A note is tied around a bottle of something alcoholic, dark, and smelling strong enough to knock over a vrykul, next to a little cloth bag filled with something hard and granular, sitting in front of Jorinak’s door and written in a slow, childish hand.] 


I am sorry I have been [scratchout] not well resently. I have trubl with peeple sometimes. I get scarred and I can’t move or speek verry well. I hope I did not [scratchout] offend you. I like you just fine. I like your animals too. They are nice. 

The litl bird was very pritty. I was scarred of stepping on it and hurting it by acksident. The innkeeper sed birds like corn. I have corn here. Plees give it to the litl bird. 

I am sorry again for my roodness. 



Author Cael
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