Sans likes to consider himself pretty good at reading faces. It especially helps that he'd had plenty of time to practice on most of the people of Snowdin. Except for her. Except for this. Sans winces, ducking his head and tensing noticeably at the sound of that step. Wrong, all of this is wrong, and a part of him wants to run away and a part of him just wants to curl up on the ground and sob and a part of him just wants to laugh and n e v e r s t o p . . .
"your son...s-snowy isn't here, mrs. drake." And then Sans' nerve fails him entirely, and he stammers on: "yet, i mean. he, uh...h-he isn't here yet."
That is not technically a lie. Sans stubbornly insists to himself that it's not. There have to be plenty of timelines where Snowdrake didn't die alone and scared like every other monster in those woods. There is no reason he couldn't turn up besides that utter bastard known as the law of probability.
"if you just, uh...if you just f-follow me, i can take you somewhere safe, to wait for him."
He can't imagine Frostdrake wouldn't be in favor of that, but he wonders if its other component parts will be on board.
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Date: 2016-03-27 04:08 am (UTC)"your son...s-snowy isn't here, mrs. drake." And then Sans' nerve fails him entirely, and he stammers on: "yet, i mean. he, uh...h-he isn't here yet."
That is not technically a lie. Sans stubbornly insists to himself that it's not. There have to be plenty of timelines where Snowdrake didn't die alone and scared like every other monster in those woods. There is no reason he couldn't turn up besides that utter bastard known as the law of probability.
"if you just, uh...if you just f-follow me, i can take you somewhere safe, to wait for him."
He can't imagine Frostdrake wouldn't be in favor of that, but he wonders if its other component parts will be on board.