Hello my lovelies! I wanted to write these in, but they didn't fit into a long chapter, so I've given them their own many chapter while I work to tame the angst that is ripping through my computer!
So here! Have a bonus mini-chapter!
Dear Sandy,
This music box is made of never-melting ice and silver. When wound, it will play an old lullaby that my mother used to sing for me. I hope it helps you to come up with incredible dreams, and I hope it helps you get to sleep yourself. Maybe it'll even help you to see past whatever I've done, and to give me a few good dreams every now and then.
Have a very merry Christmas,
Jack
Dear Bunny,
I'm sorry about the pranks, all of them, and I'm sorry for all those times I made it snow at Easter. Most of all, I'm sorry I wasn't there last Easter, when Pitch smashed the eggs: I hope that one day you can forgive me for everything I've done, but I'll understand if it takes a while.
These paints are made from snow that fell at sunset, and they've captured every shade, from the fiery red of the sun itself, to the pinks and lilacs that were on the clouds at the time. I hope you can use them to make the next Easter the best Easter ever.
Have a very merry Christmas,
Jack
Dear Tooth,
I wasn't sure what to get you, but I worked it out in the end. This necklace is made of frozen dye, and it has the promises of all the winds that whoever wears it won't be blown off course. It will never melt. I hope it helps you with your rounds, and I'm sorry if I ever created a blizzard that hindered you. I'm sorry for everything else, too.
Have a very merry Christmas,
Jack
Dear North,
What to get the man who already has everything? It took me a long time to think of something, but then I remembered your core. You see the wonder in everything, and so I've made you this star. It's the decoration for the top of a Christmas tree, but if you look into it on Christmas day it shows you the faces of children unwrapping their presents. Never forget that you are a great man, and that you bring wonder to children around the world. I'm sorry for what I did to hurt you, and if I could, I would take it all back.
Have a very merry Christmas,
Jack
In a small cave in Snowdonia, scrunched up papers littered the floor. On it were written emotions, confessions, apologies and pleas. All of them were smeared with tears, and all of them were discarded for their more neutral, less desperate counter parts. Jack Frost didn't know how to talk through his emotions, and he didn't know how to put them into letters.