living skyward

As Frisk calms, so does she. Her anger does not leave her, but no longer does it roar like a banked fire. That will change, she knows, when next she sees Sans, but for now, she can speak evenly again.

"He is foolish indeed if he thought this would not hurt you."

She steps toward Frisk. Her voice quiets. "I am sorry. I would have told you had I known."