Deer Country Contact

[terriblepurpose]

ic contact

un: younghuman ✦ text ✦ voice ✦ video

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(this was supposed to be in August oops)

[butnotyet]

Paul —

    I find myself regretting how much of your jam I sent off with Nigenad — not merely from missing the taste, although yours was one of the better orange-peach marmalades I've had in quite a few centuries at least — but I found myself feeling quite nostalgic, yesterday, over watching you learn to navigate a kitchen with grace and equanimity. It's reminded me of any number of other times I've watched the young men and women in my life working to master the skills necessary to address human needs; perhaps it will please you to know you fit amongst the more perspicacious of their number.

    The house proves much quieter, with your generation absent; I'm certain that's no surprise to you. The shrike of our mutual acquaintance has taken to visiting regularly, and a Lyctor's cavalier made a permanent arrival on the ninth day of the month; Pyrrha Dve, sometimes known as Duty, not unlike my identity as Patience. (Neither of them are remotely as loud as a group of teenagers, together or separately, strangely enough.) Perhaps you'll forgive me for not mentioning her arrival when I spoke to you briefly before my swim; I was not at my best, so shortly after John was kil and it remained to be seen whether or not she intended to remain resident, besides.

    Alfred tells me, with no small measure of distress, that those of you who left the house have established yourself in a warehouse-turned-dojo, with minimal creature comforts or amenities. While I can understand the necessity of finding shelter in short order, and will not fault you for that — it's certainly a more effective shelter than many I've used, over the years — I find I cannot believe it is your intention to remain there indefinitely; you have taken too many steps towards the reestablishment of your House, in its own name and under its own power, to hide it away again within someone else's.

    I am aware, as it happens, that hawks desire to stretch their wings and fly, you see.

    You may or may not be aware that John has managed to get himself killed three times, by three different parties, over the course of the last month. It is far less likely that you would be aware that there are a few new leashes on his power — not absolute limitations or preventive measures, as such, but more in the way of externally-imposed inhibitory reflexes, along with ensuring that those who have already been used to putting up with him for the longest will know if he gets himself hurt or killed again. Given the precise nature of these bonds, I will of course understand if you would prefer not to accept my assistance in seeking out a more permanent(ly defensible) domicile — but I commend my brother to you; he and I share a great many of the same opinions, but his thoughts are only ever shared when he specifically wishes them to be, and so your secrets will be safe with him — even from me, should my knowledge of them put you at an unacceptable risk.

    That, too, is part of the cost inherent in watching a young man grow up, I've learned — eventually every fledge leaves the nest, to make it out in the world on their own merits, or die tr.

    I should like to hear from you again, regardless — whether you prefer the traditions of stationery and correspondence, or perhaps to meet somewhere more neutral than someone's home for a conversation — I have yet to hear that Nigenad has scheduled one of his readings, or I might have suggested meeting at one such, and continuing a talk afterwards. I am quite open to suggestions (although I will note that I am not going to accept any invitations to the shore at minimum for the rest of the month).

    Until then,
— Augustine

PS: I hope your dragon has decided to stay with you, and grows well; I would be delighted to hear more about them, or have you meet ours.