Sisse,

I wasn't sure who to write to about this. Calla, Alice, and Maddy already know because they were there, and I can't just write to Ned and Sloane.

(Please don't tell either of them what I'm telling you. Ned will be insufferable with his practicality and Sloane will either yell at me or get all worked up—I haven't decided which. Everyone has already been sworn to secrecy.)

One of the damn pesky Moroccan beaters hit me during the educational scrimmage today, an the hit was solid enough to crack a rib. You know me. I wouldn't worry too much about a broken rib on a normal day, but this one's gone and punctured my lung, and it's not at all how I planned to spend my evening. The mediwizards wrapped up my middle and I'm stuck in bed.

On the bright side, I broke my nose, and I know that doesn't seem like much of a bright side, but Alice was able to straighten it after the mediwizards left it looking all crooked after they'd healed it. So at least I'm not terribly hideous.

I hope your evening is going better.

Warmly,
Cam

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