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While others were grinding the battlefields, fighting dragons and other worlds, I had also kept myself close to the line of fire and grinded the grains to make the flour so that one day the tarts of cherry may bloom in your heart and fuel you as you do mundane things, that I frankly fail to see the point of, such as fighting a world ending dragon.
My blood, sweat and tears mixed into the dough so they clumped in a pile of 99 tarts, but it's still edible, I promise.
Forever yours, M
P.S. I had to pay the carrier pigeon a premium in seeds for the weight of the parcel.
⣿⢣⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⢧⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢰⡦⣠⡟⢿⣿⣿⣿
⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣼⡟⣿⢇⠸⣿⣿⣿
⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⣄⠀⠀⣰⡄⠀⠀⠑⡹⢦⣄⠀⠀⠉⠛
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣹⡄⣧⡀⢸⠆⠀⠐⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀♡
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣧⣴⣄⣠⣇⡀⣦ 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠟⠉⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟ 𝒶
⡄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⢤⣄⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃ 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁𝓎
⣧⣷⡠⡀⠀⢀⣄⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀ 𝒹𝒶𝓎
⣿⣿⣷⣿⣦⣾⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣴⣶⣤⣀♡
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢠⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⡆⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⡇⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡙
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢸⡇⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏