His nostrils flare, catching the heady scent of fear that he can sense coming from Frisk. It's somehow less satisfying on a kid than on a grown guard, with a gun besides. It's still good.
Croc steadies himself on the bank, clawed feet catching hold of a rock studded into the mud.
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His nostrils flare, catching the heady scent of fear that he can sense coming from Frisk. It's somehow less satisfying on a kid than on a grown guard, with a gun besides. It's still good.
Croc steadies himself on the bank, clawed feet catching hold of a rock studded into the mud.
And then he pounces.