((neatly penned in Lumi-kieli))
To Raimo and Nôra of Sûri-kylä, from their daughter Ristiinnä:
I am sorry that it has taken me so long to find a means to send word to you. I hope the others in the trading journey I was on were able to safely reach Pynti-peldot and then return home. Whether they did or not, you have no doubt thought that I had died. In fact, we were caught in a blizzard near, but not near enough, to Pynti-peldot, and while trying to secure supplies for the rest of the expedition, I became lost in the snow and tumbled far down a slope, breaking my wrist. One of the sled dogs found me, but I would have perished of cold, save that I was captured by some treacherous sivullinen who nursed me back to health, chained in their wagon, to sell me to a man who meant to ransom me back for some evil purpose I do not know. With the help of Suojelija, the husky, I was able to get free, but by then I was far outside Lumi-mâ and lost. I met some kind people who helped me on to a city of the etelä-väki, and I have dwelled amongst them for almost three seasons now.
I am more leagues than I can count away from you, a journey far too great for me to make. I have seen a map, and though I am not sure how to read it, I think it tells me that I am as far from you as the journey to Pynti-peldot and back four, five, perhaps six times, if one could fly as the hanhi do. But I am well. My wrist has healed, and Suojelija is still with me, watching over me. I have maybe made some friends here, which is more than I ever managed in Sûri-kylä. I do not yet have the means to make soap or candles, but I have found a place where I help provide food and drink to travelers and others, and for doing so, I am given what I need to have a small home, food, and other needful things. I have some nice clothes and I hope in time to trade for a harp. It will not be the equal of any harp of Lumi-väki make, of course. They do not adorn them here nearly as well. It is never cold here and I have no need of either bone or wood for fire, though both are plentiful here. I feel as if I am making a life, finding my way, and though there are many setbacks, I see the path before me.
I must also admit I work to make a life here because I am frightened of returning, not just for the perils of the journey, which are great (as my tumble shows), but for the fear that I would once again be 'myself but too much'. I do not know if, in time, the steps I have made toward friendship here will fall prey to my overabundance of cheer and noise, as all my attempts there did. But so far, the ways of the Bree-väki, strange as they may seem, and the slowing down I must do to speak their music-less language, have allowed me to come closer than I ever did there. I was even being wooed briefly! But one day, perhaps when I am stronger, smarter, and more confident, I will return, perhaps to visit, perhaps to stay.
Until then, please know that I am hale and well, safe, and making my way in a strange, green world. I miss you and Juvven dearly. I hope to send this letter with some friends who mean to visit Kauppu-kohta, or perhaps even Pynti-peldot, with summer. If you get it, please send a letter back, addressed to me in the Inn of the Prancing Pony in Bree, to tell me how you and the Lumi-väki fare. If you can get it to Kauppu-kohta, one of the etelä-vieras will bring it to me in exchange for two silver pennies, which I am sending along with this letter.
Savor the sky-ribbons of Náinnas, for in all the lands of the wide world, only Lumi-mâ is graced by their dance.
With love,
Ristiinná
