Do Letter Writathon!
The letter is written on what looks like a bit of trash paper with rough charcoal from the end of a burnt stick. The letters are big, hardly legible and some are backwards and every other word is spelled wrong. It is rolled up and tied with a bit of dirty twine. On the back there appears to be an old shopping list.
(Knot + Tree)
My nAMe is UrkgraHH and i ned HelP. My Famly is BIG and im smal. My broFArs and sisFArs fhly and plAy and Blo BIG Fires at the pepul in the toWn bellow. it look so mUch Fun but i donnt no how too fhly and my bref donnt Have fires in it no mater hoW hard i blo. i donnt evin have Wings!! the BiG kids laf at me and say "she stupid, stupid UrKgrAHH cannt Fhly none!"
Moma says im pepul Folk and pepul Folk don'nt no how two fhly and blo Fires like dragon Folk do. Moma says im
Can yu Fhly? Can yu help me lern to do it so ofher dragons don make jokes? i want too kil towN pepul and be biG like them!
It's actually really really hard and irritating to write like that! Anyways, after that I did one to go with the Cowephant sketch...
The letter is written in fairly clean handwriting on a piece of paper that's obviously homemade, pressed with a few flower petals here and there. It's been put in a bright red envelope and tied to a blue bird's leg. The writing is in green ink. For all the letter's careful charm, there are a few big splats of what looks like mud, but doesn't smell as sweet.
Monks of the Temple,
I am a humble farmer. I live with my young husband, Roland, and we tend our little property with the hard hands of good decent folk. On our little planet it's hard to grow too much and villages often squabble over land, food and animals because of it. Food is scarce, and in this little village we are the only farmers.
Our village is tiny and hidden between two great mountains in a valley, so we don't get too much trouble normally, but lately the neighbors to the North been affected hard by the drought, everyone has, and they're contesting
Now, if I can't watch the herd that means a couple things. First of all the folk here in town are running down their rations and no milk means a lot of skinny folk. Plus, sooner or later a thief is going to nab a couple head, if not the whole lot. If we lose those varmints, we'll be flat broke and hungry. To top it off, my favorite of the bunch, ol' Bess is due to calf soon and that'd be a cryin' shame to lose that babe- and the money we'd get from selling such a fine animal.
Already I'm sure those poor Cowephants are aching to be milked. Ain't there any way you monks could lend a hand?
Thank You Kindly,