Caught between the lakeside, Jørgen’s tent rested peacefully. The setting didn’t fit Jørgen’s stomach. The whole night he felt uneasy, and his dog Pete caught on to his anxiety. Pete rested on Jørgen’s lap, whimpering. It always amazed Jørgen how well Pete could read him. He had always mimicked his feelings like a reflection, through his sorrowful gaze and quivering frame. The heat from Pete, and the frozen surface beneath Jørgen confused his legs, which had fallen asleep whilst numb. Jørgen crawled out of the tent, where he met the lake. The reflection of his fatigued face made him feel more worn out, whilst his hands burned from the frozen water he dove them into. He did it to wake up, so he could think.

            The night before, Jørgen’s mind rushed with worry of his unknown fate. He hadn’t thought much about his mom’s current location, and how he would find her. He knew with less than 24 hours until his boat trip to Iceland, he’d better figure out his next moves. Pete traveled aimlessly out from the tent, to then find purpose in his direction, standing then closely by Jørgen’s side. Pete truly was deceiving. Pete on the outside looked sweet as could be, but was sharp like an arrow. If it wasn’t for Pete, Jørgen figured they would’ve starved by now. Jørgen knew his cards were limited. Going back with his father he figured he’d rather be dead anyways, so he knew he had to leave Greenland. Although his dad on the outside was perceived by everyone as a confident, strong leader, Jørgen knew inside he was weaker and more broken than he tried to leave Jørgen. With Jørgen’s wits, he proclaimed to himself he would figure out something, and not let his father find him. By now the sky was a cold, dark blue. The light from the sun was almost more hidden than the mountain in front of Jørgen in the fog. The sudden switch in weather reminded Jørgen of the coming cold winter, with it being late November. The fog grew more dense, where you could get lost in it, so Pete took the initiative to lead the way into their small tent. Inside, Jørgen grabbed and wrapped a dark red blanket around himself, which he kept secure in his backpack, and huddled up next to Pete, who stood restlessly by him. 

            From his backpack, Jørgen pulled out a letter from his mother he kept hidden like treasure. It was a letter she said to read once he came back to Iceland, which would answer everything, highlighting the fact of not having his father finding it. The temptation of reading the letter now suffocated Jørgen’s thoughts. Jørgen knew the boat port to Iceland was close to him. The path there was a straight-like line from his camp site, just around the mountain behind the lake, as the old lady Grace had told him. Grace was an old friend to his mother. She was an old, frail lady, with only a handful of her teeth left, but with bright sky blue eyes which reminded you of her once youth. Grace’s village was far away by this point. Grace was the one who had granted Jørgen a free ticket to ride the boat to Iceland, Jørgen would just have to make the daring journey in a short number of days. Jørgen’s mind often wondered when he had to make choices. He hated being unsure of what to do with himself, but the feeling was inescapable. The thoughts of if he had asked about where his mother was to Grace, filled him with hatred towards himself, with how naive he was to the situation. He had become so sidetracked in his thoughts, he forgot about the letter. Pete let out a yap, which distracted Jørgen from his trance. It freed his mind enough to remember the letter. Jørgen wanted to hold his mothers wishes towards him opening it in Iceland, it being his last core memory with her, but then it hit him. “What could be so confidential, that I can’t read this letter when I’ll be in Iceland within a few days?” This thought countered all his previous thoughts from before. He knew his mother wouldn’t be one to leave him lost on a quest to nowhere, though the urge pained his mind enough to just read it. In the course of 3 long years separated, this letter felt like the key to Jørgen’s future.

            “11.9.1891 ~ To Jørgen”

            “Firstly, I must recognize how the changes you’ve had to endure in this period must’ve ached greatly. We can’t always choose our outcomes in life, but how you always persevere when you struggle is something even I can look up to at my age. We don’t have to live with our outcomes forever, there's always the choice for change when we need it.”

            “There are some things you should know about me, I feel I have never really let you know about, before we meet again.”

            “You may recall your grandmother would often watch you when I was away. I would be away for long periods of time wouldn’t I?”

            “After your grandmother passed away when you were 10, I was already terribly battling my alcoholism. I was going full days drinking without stopping to drink even water. I’m not well currently.”

            “As of now your father will be coming soon to take you with him to Greenland. I delivered to him a letter which claimed I was dead. It was the only way I could think of him taking you back, that's why you can’t let him find this letter.”

            “I want you to know I’ll be working on changing. It pains me to think of hurting you from my alcoholism.”

            “When I’m ready, I’ll message Grace to come and deliver you the boat ticket to come back home. I’ll make sure she’ll be discreet. I remember hearing your father will have you working for him as a hunter? I remember you always needing Pete to assist you with actually killing the animal when we would hunt. I hope Pete has been a friend for you.”

            “I know right now you probably hate me. I had no other choice but to leave you with your father, I promise. The whole village left me an outcast over my alcoholism, so I’ll be leaving too. With you being back now in Iceland from you reading this, you’ll be safe with me soon. I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

            “Cordially Yours, Mom”

            Words grew dry as Jørgen finished reading the letter quietly to himself. The dark black sky gaped into Jørgen’s tent through the small entrance opening, whilst snow fell above, illuminating off of Jørgen’s small oil lantern. Pete let out a whimper, while Jørgen stared coldly into the night lost with his thoughts.