5 Nov 2025, 00:08
A Girl's Cry For Supplies (And A Little Bit Of Motherly Advice) | Solo
🜎🝰🝍 |
2nd Sept 2025
Dear Mam,
I have never sent anything by owl before, so please bear with me in case this letter doesn't reach you properly. I'm borrowing Aisling's owl for this. She doesn't know. If she ends up getting angry, just know it was worth it. Aisling's emotions always blow over like a storm of humidity, anyways---here one moment, gone the next.
You have never known me to draw on before---I've a scientific mind, one functioning on logic and less so on
feelings---so I don't understand fully why I'm doing it now. Perhaps it's the new environment. Maybe it's something to do with homesickness. Whatever the reason, it's not something I do commonly. I might wax poetic, as all good journalists must, but this feels...different. An ailment I've not faced before.As such, I'll get to the point. We both know that, because of my experiences, I've often found myself outside of
the realm of friendship’s pious company, and yet here I stand before you today a girl who has a friend. I know, I know—wild for your dear daughter of few words and fewer patience. His name is…well, I don’t exactly remember the full thing, but I remember it was Mam-something, so I’ve resolved myself to call him Mam for now. I hope you’re not too angry at him stealing your name, I know it’s inconvenient.No, but really, my question is thus: How on Earth does one keep a friend? I know how to make them (at
least, I know the basic concept of making friends); I suppose I’m simply inexperienced in the whole ‘friendship’ thing. But what does it take? Because it’s not as simple as chamomile tea (and even then, we know chamomile tea is not simple at all), and it’s certainly not like I could simply sit there in silence while he blathers on and on about seemingly nothing at all. I can’t just make some sort of pill for my friendlessness, can’t just wave my wand and instantly make everyone love me (that’s much higher-level magic if it’s learnable anyways). So how does one do it?I don't really know why I'm doing this, or what I'm actually asking here. Lord knows I've got too much on
my plate, what with Herbology and Potions and all of the other classes I'm forced to take before I can get to the good stuff, to truly implement anything that I'm asking for. I suppose I just miss you. How can I not? You're my Mam. Your little apothecary shop is my home. I doubt anything would be able to change the amount of longing for home that twinges in my chest, but we'll see. Like you always say, time is going to keep marching whether or not I want it to. Well, let it march faster. I want to come home.That's likely enough of my melancholy rambles for one day. We can't afford to have too many Victor
Frankensteins in the house these days. I just thought I would write home. I wonder if this is being delivered on a week whenever Father is home; if so, give him all of my love. Tell Finlay if he dares to lay a single fingernail on my alembic OR my philosopher's sulfur that I will personally sneak mercury sublimate into his next snack. Kisses for Alba, as always.All my love,
Luna-Katherine
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Word Count: 564/200
"You are an alchemist: make gold of that." - William Shakespeare