Blurtsoiselle,

I have received your letter and overcome its contents. Logically, I can concede the ravages of distance and time, and the dispassionate mind can imagine how you have arrived at your state and place. But sadly, what the mind might imagine, the heart struggles to comprehend. Perhaps the image I forged of you was not a being meant for the reality perceived by you or by me. We have reached the fork, and we have parted. You shall remain in your world, and I shall remain in mine. You ask if we might remain friends. Am I to pretend I don't feel what I feel? I'm sorry, but an honest heart knows only its honest ways.

Farewell,

Blurtseau L’un d’If

And then he put down his pen, and considered the past. Must it now be erased? Must he sponge out the vanquished hopes and dreams, and memories of moments in the eye of the storm, when he and Blurtsoiselle had sat together, saying little, doing less, gazing out on a common tomorrow? Must that canvas be painted over in dusky black and grey? And to go on? To live? What reason to wake at dawn, or attempt to sleep at night? A single thought buoyed him; his love for Pableau. Blurtseau knew that his friend was concerned for his welfare, and that Blurtseau’s pain had become his pain as well. He knew if he truly loved his friend, he would have to do better. And with that one thought, Blurtseau recognized his obligation on the other end of the thread, the thread with which Pableau had saved him. And that was to console his friend by consoling himself. And so it was that our corsaire extraordinaire, Blurtseau Lundif and BlurtZo de la brava espada, reached into his own sad heart and pulled himself up, firmly, from the depth of despair. Then, with teeth clenched and steady on his hoofs, he rose from his chair, embraced his friend, and walked into the day.