Dearest mother —
The quill has never felt more heavy. I have made the decision to holster my sidearm permanently. I shall battle no more. The decision is difficult, but, as the hogs taught me, I must be true to myself. I am coming home to care for you and the farm.
— Andrew
Dearest mother —
I have safely arrived at Camp to begin basic training. Betwixt counting birds during the day and stars at night, the journey felt short. My sidearm is polished. My uniform is crisp. My neckbeard: full. The new campaign has officially begun. Exhilarated.
— Andrew