Help Please

*a girl with too big eyes and lips too thin skips her way to the cluttered boards. She sticks her tongue out a little, concentrating on sticking her own parchment up over all the other papers. She hopes someone will notice her chicken scratches and leave a reply. She steps back and looks over her master peice with pride, its done in black ink in a barely readable scrawl. It reads as follows:*

PlEsE SomEonE,

I nEdE a tEachr to shO mE poshuns.

*signed*

A faEry huntR and pupl,
skYlr shA

*That ever weird and annoying Fae that is Petalz sneaks on in, a reply ready to be tacked up in hand, hidden in his disguise he quickly tacks up the reply, only to run of screaming, away from a patron wearing a hat. The reply itself seems to be written upon a white piece of cloth, which judging by the shape of the cloth, has been made from an item of undergarments. Written upon with a deep purple ink. The note is tacked directly over the original by a simple tooth pick picked up from a table.*

Too the Fae Hunter,

I personally may not be able to help you with your request, but may be able to point you in the right direction. How ever I will only do so on one condition! You remove yourself of the title, and occupation of Fae Hunter. They are not the sort to be hunted. Why would one wish to hunt their kind, my kin?

Lord and Ruler of Nothing in the Realm of Everything.

It is signed, along with the title given, by a simple, quick drawing of a flower.

*the aforementioned Skyler trumps up to the boards expectantly. This being her fourth or fifth time in the past hour...she's dripping wet now and splutters some from water, maybe she fell in the river? She grins at the peculiar note and precedes to take a great deal of reading the words with some difficulty. After a while she troops off to fetch pen and paper. She returns after another long period of time with her reply:*

I wot TakE bak mY titl as faErY huntr cos I wannt 2 find onE I donT want to TakE yuu. PlEsE hElp mE. I wot tush yuu. Poshuns onlE I prawmis

SkYlr shA-pupl of poshuns and faErEEs.

*Meanders on in turning his attention to the board a brow raises as he makes sence of the chicken scratch before bolting on back out, returning several minutes later, followed by the screams of an angered woman. He grumbles something about "Hard finds." As he tacks another note up, written down on actual parchment this time, penned out neatly.*

To the pupil.

Your word can only be trusted as far as you can reach. I'll see what I can do to help you out..

Just look for that which you hunt.

Your Lord.