Green shirts and red eyes and knives and prove yourself to me and no no no...
Sans seems to bristle a little where he lays, the spines on his back rattling, his claws digging deeper furrows into the ground. He stares straight ahead, seeing nothing for a bad moment, and lets out a ragged snarl that he suddenly cuts off by snapping his jaws shut hard enough to make the fangs click off each other. Then the monster rests its skull back on the ground and drapes an arm over its eyesockets, still shivering just a little.
"Supposed to fight." But it says the words more like a warning and less like a threat. Trying to indicate that the thoughts aren't always its own. "Can't remember."
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Green shirts and red eyes and knives and prove yourself to me and no no no...
Sans seems to bristle a little where he lays, the spines on his back rattling, his claws digging deeper furrows into the ground. He stares straight ahead, seeing nothing for a bad moment, and lets out a ragged snarl that he suddenly cuts off by snapping his jaws shut hard enough to make the fangs click off each other. Then the monster rests its skull back on the ground and drapes an arm over its eyesockets, still shivering just a little.
"Supposed to fight." But it says the words more like a warning and less like a threat. Trying to indicate that the thoughts aren't always its own. "Can't remember."