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Dear Duncan Settlefoot,
Hallo! Well, we've been busy around here in Humble's Ford lately. Just got back from a wood gathering trip to the Culverwood. My mama (Bekka Lilly Burrows Leafwin Pipewood, you know), the twins, Darcie Lee & Demko (you might recall their 30th birthday is coming up in just a few weeks!), Polly's & my cousin Shale Leafwin Oakendale and I went. We took a few dog carts. Darcie Lee & Demko (the twins) are real good with the dogs. Anyway, we picked up from some fallen trees a couple of good boles, plus some good straight pieces, that Papa and Kember (he's my oldest brother, who is really good at leap frog, you might remember) will be able to make into good musical instruments and toys. Papa is making some harps - he said that one of the boles will be terrific for a harp for bigger folk, like elves or humans. We get some of them coming through once in a while. People like the stuff Papa makes.
Nalfein and Rosehips (my second oldest brother, and my sister, third born in the family) have been off in Angel Springs, running the family shop there, Winwood Toys and Music. Nalf just came back for a visit, though, for a few days.
Oh, speaking of Kember, his wife, Sarta, is pregnant again. They have a cute little girl and a boy already. Kember is hoping for twins this time.
I wrote a song about when the giants tried to attack Crescent Valley, just after the ol' wizard, Shafbaffum, erected the warding towers. Boy, were they in for a surprise! All kinds of stuff happened to them, and they got driven back. My uncle Orby, the pipe maker, was telling me part of the story just before we headed into the Culverwood. So I wrote this song called 'The Testing of the Sentinel Towers.' Here it is. I'll play it for you when I see you next, because it's better with the music. At least, I hope it is.In Crescent Vale they tell the tale
Of when the green grass grew
With twisted cords it wrapped and scored
The big'uns coming through
Past tall stone sentinels they fought
But deep deep magic flew
And pierced their limbs and made them doubt
The wisdom of Chief Gniew
Then hied the slingers came the knives
A-flying through the air
And giants saw the might of wives
Whose skillets broke their stare
Though ten times their size ungainly they
When little folk they thought would yield
The small ones made them richly pay
For messing up their green grass fields
So giants - 'ware the little folk
'Tis Wardd's own luck they make
You'll ne'er break the oxen's yoke
On halflings' lands you try to take!
In Crescent Vale they tell the tale
Of when the green grass grew
With twisted cords it wrapped and scored
The big'uns coming through
I laughed when he told me about these big ugly giants, all wrapped up in twisty plants, just bellowing and slobbering and wanting to do bad things to our ancestors, then a bunch of housewives brought out their skillets and kitchen knives and such, and let 'em fly at those wrapped-up giants! A lot of kids were pelting them with sling stones, too. But there was this one giant who got hit in the head by THREE skillets - and one of the ladies who skilleted the giant was Polly's and our, oh, and Slate's great grandmother, Plush Heather Leafwin Blueberry Leafwin. Knocked out that giant, they did. There were lots of other bits he told me about the battle, but if a song is too long, then people get kind of tired out listening to it, sometimes. Sigh...
I'm sending this letter to you through Polly, who can help you if some of the things I write are hard to read. She knows my handwriting. Hi, Polly!
You know, I was thinking we ought to get some of our friends together sometimes soon, and go on an adventure. Like search for dragon's treasure, or rescue a princess, or foil some brigands who harry travelers, or the like. What do you say to that, good Duncan? It could make for some rollicking good stories, eh? And I think that my sister Selithe is getty antsy to get out and see more of the Wold, too. Maybe Nalfein, my second-eldest brother, could come along. And Slate, and Polly. Can you think of anyone else?
Oh, and Demko (who was just reading over my shoulder) wants me to tell you again that he's really sorry about the time he put the ants in the bread surprise that Polly's mama made for you. Even though you already forgave him before. Demko - you are SO guilty!!!
How is your garden growing, Duncan? Well, I suppose I have written more than enough for now. Write me back, if you want to. If you don't, that's okay. We can talk the next time we're together, which, I hope, will be soon. You can teach me some more hand signs, too!
Your friend,
Kendry Leafwin Pipewood
P.S.: How do you like this brown ink? When we visited with some of the druids of the Culverwood, one of them gave me this bottle of it. He said he makes it from forest herbs, and it's not poisonous to drink. Not that I'd want to drink ink. That brown bubbly tea they foist on us is bad enough! Well, all right, it's not that bad. The bubbles do surprise you the first time, though.
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