Dear Princess Celestia (as I understand these things are s'posed to begin),

Ya strike me as a reasonably classy dame, an' I mean that in a good way. Ya got more taste than Canterlot, anyway -- I popped by there. Biggest mistake I coulda made. Cardboard's got more flavor than that place, an' if their snoots were any higher in the air, they'd be in Cloudsdale.

But I ain't here ta talk smack about ya upper-class (that just comes naturally). Point is, ya gotta be bored up there, an' I bet my lucky foot that means ya listened to the music that got sent out over the scrolls the other day. What I'm here ta tell ya is that that chicken's got a lot more eggs ta lay. Ya want music? Ya got music: that lovely lady DJ'd be honored ta drop some beats for ya, if ya want ta liven up ya day sometime. Here or there, but I bet if ya came down to a concert here ya'd be showin' support for all us offworld types right when that gossip rag's been rakin' the muck like yellow's the best color newsprint can be. She ain't in it for the money, so past expenses we can even make it a benefit concert or somethin'. Beats me what you Princessy types want. Point is, the girl here's the musical equivalent of a centerfold, and ya doin' yerself a disservice if ya don't feast ya metaphorical eyes on those aural curves. (And the literal ones too if that's ya thing.)

Ya loyal impresario,
Boo Velka Receptor Arba

[It had taken almost the entire day for "Dream Weaver" to calm herself down after almost not only blurting out her true identity, but ranting at length about how she still envied Celestia. As it stood, she took several attempts at writing this message on plain, non-magical scrolls, finding it was affecting her ability to write, as well. Whatever was going on, it was not only making lying impossible, but the act of omitting the truth was incredibly difficult as well...both in word and in writing. Regardless, she manages to finally get something written that she can actually get on a plain scroll.

The writing looks shaky and unconfident utterly by accident, but at least that's a blessing in disguise - nopony would mistake it for the normally elegant script that Princess Luna uses.]

Dearest Wind Whistler,

We I have learned that you hold Mister Hamato in less contempt than the others at the location where he is staying. As of such, I must ask of you a favor.

I have been afflicted with something that compromises my position here as the supervising officer of Mister Hamato. I will be able to remain here and keep watch over him during the night, but I am incapable of interacting with the other ponies at the commune because I can't seem to stop talking due to some magical geas I cannot shake. I assure you, Mister Hamato is not at fault, and when I do learn of the culprit, they will be punished severely.

However, this affliction leaves me unable to supervise Mister Hamato during the daytime because my magic is weaker during the da-- as I must remain isolated from others, so I require someone to act in my stead until I have recovered. The task is simple - he is to perform the labor that the commune agrees upon without complaint, as the least he can do after his acts is take Nemo's place in the workforce. He is allowed to speak with others if they approach him, but is not allowed to engage in conversation on his own while working... not yet, at least. In addition, any conversation should be ceased if things start to edge towards 'uncontrollably hostile' by either party.

After his work is done, he is to return to our quarters, where I will be able to supervise him.

I apologize for the request but I feel you are the only one I can turn to.

Thank you for your time,
Pri P L Dream Weaver

P.S. I feel it will be safe to explain the situation in more detail if you come and speak with me in private, though I fear that whatever has caused my ailment may affect the whole town.

[The name in particular is particularly illegible - it's hard to make a 'Dre' out of the letters 'Lun', and it's clearly the shakiest part of the letter.

Instead of trying to copy her words once more to the magical scrolls, Luna instead slips out under the cover of night to leave the plain scroll tucked in the front door, sealed and with Wind Whistler's name upon it. Hopefully the pegasus will understand the severity of the situation and she will be able to keep from asking too many questions about the issue.]