Some of the text has been blotted out with what appears to be water stains.
When I sat to write this, my quill rested beside blank parchment for quite some time. Betrayed by my very hand, which refuses to write what mine heart doth sing, I beseech thee to give me audience beneath the old oak tree at sunset on the night of the full moon. I pray that my tongue can translate what my hand cannot and make my true feelings known.
I anxiously await the moment when I shall be graced with your presence again.
Your dutiful servant,
Spring Thanksgiving season was coming to an end, and the night of his rendezvous with Tamas quickly approached. Chase was still having trouble organizing his thoughts in preparation for the meeting. He had so many things he needed to say, but finding the right words to express them was a true challenge. His morning chores around the ranch were distracted by thoughts fluttering in and out of his head like butterflies.
On his way back home he stopped and