Dear Eugene,
I have scented this letter with what I choose to wear myself. Solely for special occasions. There are only so many drops left in the vial, and it will be some seasons before I can replace it. Do not ask me to waste my money again. A green perfume means that there are strong herbs pressed in it. Must I explain everything to you?
Most call me Grimmel. The Grisly, as some choose to add, and I prefer it that way. My real name you could not pronounce. It is not spelled in runes, but in alphabet, so I could not write it as an option for you to read. It is of Saxon origin, and means "fierce protector". I have no plans for the information you shared. Yes, you have told me too much.
We have never had such a holiday like your Snoggletog. When I was a boy, everyone stayed indoors until finding food to hunt was necessary. Our village had winter blizzards filled with the fury of the gods. If I had put my hand out, I could not see it in the snow.
I do not remember much of my father, but he always braved the snow with me to find food for my eight sisters, my mother, and I, much like your father. (My parents spent many years trying to birth a son.) I haven't contacted any of my sisters in ages, nor do I ever wish to again.
I have sent back your letter with some corrections. Did you ever pay attention in school? Your grammar and penmanship are horrible.
Are you using the tools I've bought you every night? Make sure you do. Here are some new items I found, also. Wear them, and you will become decent enough for marriage in little time. Smiling may help you. I remember that your smile was pleasant...enough. Perhaps when a man finally notices you, you will stop writing me and make yourself useful as a wife.
P.S: You have never said the name you want to be called. I will address you how you prefer. You can write me as Grimmel, or G, if your ink is low.
I apologize for the Deathgripper saliva on your new crate. When they are hungry, they nose around my things for something to gnaw.