He feels almost like a ghost. Good thing he's not. though, 'cause hand-holding's nice--for Frisk, anyway. Their hand's...warm. Far too warm than would usually be healthy for a human.
The fog swirls around them with every step and beat of their wings, fading to clarity the deeper they go. Faint shafts of light pour from the windows and onto the floor, slowly brightening.
The doors to the garden are already open, fortunately, or else they would've outright kicked it. With their hooves. That might've broke stuff and sent splinters everywhere.
And then they're in the garden. In the sun, among a thousand different kinds of colorful flowers and trees, the latter of which are a mix of the usual greens and some swipes of orange and yellow and red; Frisk lets go to whirl and see what Gaster's face looks like.
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Date: 2016-10-25 11:28 pm (UTC)The fog swirls around them with every step and beat of their wings, fading to clarity the deeper they go. Faint shafts of light pour from the windows and onto the floor, slowly brightening.
The doors to the garden are already open, fortunately, or else they would've outright kicked it. With their hooves. That might've broke stuff and sent splinters everywhere.
And then they're in the garden. In the sun, among a thousand different kinds of colorful flowers and trees, the latter of which are a mix of the usual greens and some swipes of orange and yellow and red; Frisk lets go to whirl and see what Gaster's face looks like.