And which poor SOUL might that be? Frisk's, of course. They still like the gardens, after all, and the sound of things being destroyed naturally catches their attention from fairly far away.

They dart around fountains and tear through bushes themselves, following where the noise came from even after it stops until they're at the site of destruction. Then they slow, picking their way through the wreckage until the glint of the flowing river's visible through tattered leaves and broken branches.

...They think they're being quiet.