Prickling instinct tells them something's in their space.
Frisk being themselves, they don't even look up. It's probably either a friend (if not now, then soon-to-be) or somebody who's going to pass them by--or the worst case scenario, but that barely brushes their thoughts.
Therefore, they are not at all prepared for a human cannonballing into their fort, knocking down something that was trying to be a wall and, thanks to their overdone cushioning job, bouncing Frisk into the air a few inches with a shriek.
"Chara!" they yelp, scrambling to sit up and failing. Too many blankets, you know, tangled around their legs.
They give up and lie down on their face.
"...Thanks," they answer eventually, muffled. "An' you."
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Date: 2017-03-20 12:20 am (UTC)Frisk being themselves, they don't even look up. It's probably either a friend (if not now, then soon-to-be) or somebody who's going to pass them by--or the worst case scenario, but that barely brushes their thoughts.
Therefore, they are not at all prepared for a human cannonballing into their fort, knocking down something that was trying to be a wall and, thanks to their overdone cushioning job, bouncing Frisk into the air a few inches with a shriek.
"Chara!" they yelp, scrambling to sit up and failing. Too many blankets, you know, tangled around their legs.
They give up and lie down on their face.
"...Thanks," they answer eventually, muffled. "An' you."