Hail Sea-Drinker’s Uncle,

It’s almost been cold enough today to make me wonder if your daughter’s prized cockrel is crowing. I’d have written you earlier today but I wasn’t really sure what to say. I’ve been thinking about the old stories. A lot of people just don’t understand them and I’ve been considering re-writing them for today’s people. I’ve also been thinking about just writing new stories but I feel hesitant to do so. It’s more then a little nerve wracking to think that my stories could possibly begin to measure up to the ones handed down thru the ages.

There are a few points about the old stories that I’m left wondering about. When She who Spins the Clouds with the Stars called upon all of the Nine worlds to weep for her Bright son, was the cave dweller named Thanks you, as so many presume, or one of your father’s brood? I’m not sure you’ll dignify that with an answer any time soon. Old rumors are often best left forgotten in the past. Some argue that you are malicious but I question if it’s simply a bit of bad press you recieved as time passed. Because what of the story where you were the only one of the Aesir’s number that could rescue an old farmer’s family from a ravening Man-eater of the high hills?

It is difficult for me to determine what more I should write. I feel rather foolish with those questions or any of the others that come to mind. I suppose feeling foolish, however, is a reasonable thing. When one follows a god who is known for striking madness into people simply for amusement sake, foolishness is the least of the concerns to be had. I suppose I’ll end this letter here. Perhaps the next will be more entertaining or at least less of an exercise in futility.