IC Inbox.

[onceaking]

A tarnished copper lions-head letterbox, with a mail slot for its mouth, stares from Peter's door.

(He doesn't have a phone or computer, and barely uses those available elsewhere.)

Comments

letter;

[cwene]

[A few days after Sarah's herbology lesson, an envelope, sealed with Peter's name on the front, is slid under his door. The card inside is simple, a piece of paper cut art on the front, layered and elegant. Inside is a note and a teabag, in sealed plastic.]

Peter,

Be careful what you drink. The proprietor of Tearany tells me this aides in clear thinking. I hope you enjoy it.

Yours,
Regina

letter;

[onceaking]

Miss Regina;

If I didn't know better, I'd say you were teasing me, as much as looking out for me. But the gesture's much appreciated, whatever the spirit of it. Glorious Tea indeed!

Yours in solidarity,
Peter Pevensie