(Authors Note: Please read carefully, there will ultimately be hidden sentences from the writers. It will be a while before much more is revealed, and until then it's best to keep your eyes and mind open. These are boring, but they are letters. There is more entertainment to appear in letter three. I will upload these weekly. Thank you for reading and feel free to leave a review/comment.)

Stargazers 23, Year of the Blue Storm

1865 Crystal Lanes Sersee, Serna

Dear Miss Hawke,

I write to you in hopes that you remember me. The feeble, cowardly man who had attempted to offer you a drink of red punch and proceeded to spill it all over your beautiful white gown. Yes, such a pleasant memory of our first meeting. But I hope it will not be our last.

Might I inquire as to when you will come to Sersee again? After our chat about artists and their uncanny ability to confuse us viewers with every new stroke they add, I just cannot get your voice out of my mind. Please tell me you will be seeing me again soon. I do not want to wait so long that you will have married by the time I see you again. That would be most unfortunate.

And about the comment on my orange hair color, I might say the same about yours. I understand that being 'red headed' I have a 'short temper', but they say the blondes are the 'stupid' ones. To be perfectly honest you didn't come across as 'stupid' at all. In fact you were charming and held a conversation remarkably well. Even with the red stain on your dress you shrugged it off, after yelling so loudly about how I ruined your dress, and smiled at everyone as if the stain was supposed to be there.

Generating humor is your best quality. Apart of your undeniable beauty that is. I meant to ask where you heard the joke about deer, which I cannot seem to remember, I don't suppose you remember where you heard it. Everyone around you was entertained at all times, no matter if they were a stuck up prick or just loose with their mouth and loved a good laugh.

I suppose it was not nice to call anyone a stuck up prick, but the one with the giant white wig and blue flowers in her hair whose nose was in the air, you must admit at the very least SHE was stuck up. By the way, I am fairing well lately, I didn't think after the catastrophe in your own home I would be allowed to another ball. And yet I am to be at one tomorrow evening. I'm sure it will be much fun. I just wish you could be there too.

Now that all the past chatter has been unveiled, and hopefully my identity, I hope to engage new conversations with you, if only over letters. I do hope you'll consider, at the very least, writing me back. I would be most exultant to receive a reply. Admittedly, I am not expecting one, but I will be hoping for one. I am also not expecting any sort of relationship, I am much to clumsy with words to have something like that. But please consider sending a reply.

Everything must come to an end and imagine, if you will, a time when not everything must. Imagination is key to every poor sod that picks up a pen to write or draw, and, sadly, I am one of them. Imagining a reply, hopefully a happy one, is all I can do at the moment until I receive one. I will wait only a month, then I will give up all hope. I hope you are well and that your family is happy. Stay safe, Miss Hawke.

Secret Punch Spiller