[Private//Off-Network]
Dear one,
I promised I'd write and even though there's no way I can actually send you this letter I suppose I might as well keep my promise. If this were a real letter I suppose I'd have to tell you all about this place, but it isn't, so I shall talk about myself instead. I haven't exactly been making friends left and right, but there's Di Di who's Fedot's age and I'm sharing rooms with a man named Moss, who is all right, I suppose. He knows a lot about the technology here, which is helpful. I did say I'd help out with a play some people here are putting on--I can't tell you how clever the script is, you'd have to read it, but it is exactly my cup of tea.
I've been working a little in the library and bemoaning my lack of any useful skills--even carrying books around can get exhausting, but I suppose I shouldn't complain since I'm making enough to cover lodgings and food. I wish I could see you again, which I know is a bit ridiculous since, no, I probably wouldn't go visit you if I could, but I'm so far from anything familiar…I'd say I'm doing well and don't worry about me, but the fact that you always worry about me is one of your best qualities and also I will probably get my head chopped off one of these days. As far as I can tell, though, even that sort of thing will cause no lasting harm. Please try to make things right with Ireen, you are unlikely to do better than her, even if you have somehow gotten more attractive than I am, which is quite annoying, by the way.
Yours always,
Toad Breath
[Public]
I'm terribly excited about the upcoming play--also, I think I need to read all the Wilde I can get my hands on.
Moss, how do you feel about cats?