They hunch low, a starving fire burning low in their chest as they creep down the hall in Frisk's vague direction, their lantern held out in front of them. Whoever it is that is here, their blind anger filters every possibility to enemies, to people who want to contest with them, to people who aren't here for any random chance or goodwill.
"Who are you? Who's here?" they say lowly, their tone laced with malicious suspicion.
no subject
Someone is here. Who? Who?
They hunch low, a starving fire burning low in their chest as they creep down the hall in Frisk's vague direction, their lantern held out in front of them. Whoever it is that is here, their blind anger filters every possibility to enemies, to people who want to contest with them, to people who aren't here for any random chance or goodwill.
"Who are you? Who's here?" they say lowly, their tone laced with malicious suspicion.