[ Across the innards of Crookback, spreading into Petalcourt and within the Allar District, stood myriad letters- pinned to walls, against notice boards. Anywhere that would attract attention. Each brushstroke was furious- and, to anyone who couldn't speak Zasta, impossible to understand. ] Spoiler: Translation To a coward and a fool- Nin- I know what you did, you wretched, twisting /thing/. I don’t have enough words, or enough paper, to tell you how much of a gods-forsaken idiot you are. I don’t know who talked first, I don’t /care/ who talked first. Hurt him again and I’ll tie you into a fucking knot. From, You-Know-Who. P.S. To the other me, who I’m sure will read this eventually- you’re an utter waste of breath. Have fun being a vampire’s chew-toy for the rest of your stupid life.
“Nin” looked over the letter he found somewhere near where he lived, furrowing his brows slightly. Eventually done with appreciating every pretty little letter in Zasta, the Wolathar sighed, perhaps in quiet regret. The left corner of his mouth curled into a mischievous grin, as he glanced back at some of his work supplies. There was no attempt at trying to write back, no attempt at sending a response or to defend himself. There was no point, it would fall on deaf ears, he knew. Or perhaps it would simply be overlooked, looked at like how he looked at the letter in his hands. Besides, he didn’t feel sorry anyways, he was rather proud he made it through another day, alive. “Nin”, as the letter called him, let out a laugh. He tossed it aside into a stack of other random notes he kept around for one reason or another. “I can’t read this. Writing looks pretty though.”
[!] It appears someone was kind enough to provide a translation on the reverse side of each page in Common.
Ortoak's bulging frost-blue eyes gazed over the Zasta translation, reaching the bottom PS and chortling in anger when he saw what was there. It wasn't addressed to anybody directly, but he had a sense about who it was talking about when describing a 'waste of breath' and a 'vampire's chew toy.' He still remembered his turning at the Blood Moon, how weak his body had been before this gift was injected into his veins. Who was this inferior being to call him such things? He just had to narrow down the Allar who knew him from his old life, and then pay them a visit...
