The letters were unusual for a few reasons.
For starters, they were sent by people Sasha Skochilenko had never met before.
Then there's the fact she was even permitted to read them. Political prisoners in Russia are often allowed only limited communication with the outside world.
They were also from a place she knew little about — Australia.
"It was very surprising people on a completely different continent knew about my story even though they are so geographically distant from what is happening," Ms Skochilenko says.
"It wasn't only Russian-speaking people who live in Australia, but also Australians themselves wrote to me in English. I am extremely grateful."
Ms Skochilenko, an artist and musician from Saint Petersburg, was sentenced to seven years behind bars for an anti-war protest in a supermarket.
Her crime? Replacing five price tags with bits of paper containing messages criticising Vladimir Putin's full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
She was among the first people charged under Russia's strict war censorship laws, introduced in March 2022 to punish people for "discrediting" the country's armed forces.
The laws, which carry jail terms of up to 10 years, have been criticised by many in the international community as heavy-handed, even when factoring in the Kremlin's lack of regard for human rights and free speech.
Rachel Denber, a deputy director at Human Rights Watch, described the legislation as "a radical change".
"I think it's changed free speech quite fundamentally in Russia. It's now a crime to say anything about Russia's war against Ukraine in public and in some cases even in private that in any way diverges from the Kremlin's narrative," she said.
The bar for what counts as "discrediting" the military is low, too.
Between then and November 17 this year, the country's courts had been swamped by more than 10,500 cases relating to the new legislation, according to an analysis by the independent Russian media outlet Mediazona, which has been tracking and publishing the numbers.
Almost 300 decisions published online by courts in Moscow relate to just one Instagram account, run by the youth movement Vesna.
In Russia, small acts can lead to big jail terms
Ms Skochilenko's supermarket protest made global headlines. Prosecutors complained the messages on the replaced price tags were dangerous.
One read: "Putin has been lying to us from television screens for 20 years: the result of these lies is our readiness to justify the war and the senseless deaths."
Another detailed a Russian bombing of an art school in Mariupol on March 20, 2022, where hundreds of people had been sheltering.
Ms Skochilenko, 34, was arrested in April that year and spent more than 18 months behind bars waiting for her trial.
While she was charged over swapping five price tags, she told the ABC her activism had gone much further.
"Every time I waked past a store, I would put those tags in there," she said. "I don't know how many stores I managed to stuff them into. A lot.
"I took part in almost all anti-war movements that I could."
The activist was defiant at her trial, and in her closing statement told the prosecutor and judge: "Say what you want — I was wrong, or I was brainwashed," she said. "I will stand by my opinion and my truth."
When she was sentenced, Ms Skochilenko made a heart gesture with her hands at supporters who shouted "shame".
She was eventually released as part of a wide-ranging prisoner swap in July 2024 after serving two years and three months behind bars.
She said conditions in jail were tough and made it impossible for her to manage her health conditions, which included coeliac disease and a heart condition.
She said she was not sure why people from Australia had decided to send her letters of support, but that they were a welcome distraction from life behind bars.
Ms Skochilenko claimed inmates were forced to scrub their rooms multiple times a day using water from toilets.
"After I complained, I was transferred to a [more crowded] cell for six people," she told the ABC.
"It was more horrible. There was a very creepy senior inmate who spent the whole day watching TV shows about the war, films about the war, news about the war et cetera.
"The guards later told me it was on purpose. She hadn't done anything like that when I wasn't there, but as soon as I got there she was asked to do this."
'I did what I could'
While Ms Skochilenko is among the most high-profile people who has been prosecuted under Mr Putin's censorship crackdown, there are thousands of others.
Andrey Lozitskiy joined Vesna — the democratic advocacy organisation behind the Instagram account Russian authorities levelled hundreds of court cases against — in 2020.
"For a long time, we were just an activist organisation that did some stuff here and there to stir things up and attract media hype," he told the ABC.
Vesna — which translates to "spring" — was founded in 2013 but really earnt a name for itself after organising several anti-war demonstrations, something seldom seen in Russia where public displays of dissent are increasingly rare.
Russian authorities in December 2022 designated it an "extremist organisation".
Six people have been arrested accused of running it, and face a maximum 15 years behind bars if convicted.
But in Russia, the justice system is just one avenue used to try and stifle opposition.
In March 2022, Mr Lozitskiy, who was then aged 20, says he was ambushed by two "unknown men" at his Moscow home who beat him so severely, he required facial reconstruction surgery.
"They had balaclavas and gloves on, and they were like huge, jacked guys," he said.
"I was just a boy with a pretty little face and while initially I thought the injuries would pass [without serious medical intervention] it turns out my bones were broken.
"In order for my face not to slip, plates were inserted into it. I was in rehabilitation for several weeks."
Mr Lozitskiy fled to Poland, where he continues to live in exile.
Being attacked has only fuelled his desire to return to Russia one day and fight for change.
"I believe the citizens of Russia really deserve some kind of democracy," he said.
"I'm fighting for them to have the opportunity to participate in politics, and not be afraid of it. I believe our people are all very good at heart."
It's a sentiment shared by Ms Skochilenko, who has taken a new interest in Australia since the arrival of the letters, saying "it's cool that you are such a peaceful people".
"When I am 80 years old and I'm going to be sitting in an armchair somewhere, and the son of my nephew comes up to me and asks: 'Grandma Sasha, what were you doing during the war?' I want to tell him I did everything I could."
"I didn't stop the war, but at least I did what I could."
