Dear Verina,
It's been a month since my last letter, and the days here feel endless. Life at the war camp has been a whirlwind, and I find myself grappling with the weight of recent events. We faced our first battle, a harsh initiation that shook the camp to its core. While it was an experience I won't forget, I don't want to burden you with the specifics. I know how easily worry can take root, and it's better that you focus on the world around you.
The winter chill has settled in, transforming the landscape into a stark and unforgiving place. Each day feels longer than the last, and I often find myself reflecting on the warmth of home—the gentle rustle of leaves and the golden light of the sun. Here, the atmosphere is heavy, filled with unspoken fears. In my quiet moments, doubt haunts me. I lead these men, but with every command, I feel the weight of their lives on my conscience. The biting cold of winter surrounds us, and I can't shake the guilt that questions if I am the right person to lead them through this unforgiving season.
I think often of your strength and resilience; they remind me to hold on during these trying times. I hope you are finding solace in the memories of your mother and the beauty of winter, surrounded by those who care for you.
Please take care of yourself, Verina. I promise to keep you in my thoughts and will write again soon. Hearing from you would bring a much-needed light to my days.
Yours,
Victor