We were all thrilled to hear of your latest promotion! Your father still says you should have stayed on the farm, of course, but he's secretly proud to have a son in the companions. Don't tell him I said so, though. That sweet little Gurilda stopped by the house yesterday. She brought over some venison and a jug of Four-Eye Grog from her pa. She knows Dad has a sweet spot for the grog. And since he hurt his back and can't hunt, the venison is very welcome.
That girl's going to make someone a good hearth-wife someday soon. Could be you, if you came out of your shell a bit and actually talked to her. Pretty face, good hips, a fine farm to inherit, quite a catch all told. But no more about that.
Now don't you worry about us, we'll be fine. Pa can't work the farm like he used to, but we're talking about hiring a hand or two to help out. With all the refugees streaming past here day and night, help is easy to find. Please try not to get stabbed or slashed any more. You weren't the handsomest of lads to start with. A few scars build character but too many will ruin what looks you have.
All my love, Mother