A kite. A toy that flies up in the sky. Kind of like a bird, colourful and light, but usually shaped very differently. It takes S-4 a few tries to sound the word out, but eventually, he decides the correct pronunciation sounds the best, and he sticks with it, and he also wonders if there are supplies to make a kite of their own, here in the castle. With their friends...
By the end of the story, S-4 is tearing up again. Frisk deserved so much. They had so many good friends, and they loved every one of them. S-4 should have read to them sooner. He should have found gifts to give them. He should have been the kind of friend that was in the story.
But here he is, trying to become that much too late.
He leans against Sans-Serif as he closes the book, sniffling.
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Date: 2016-02-19 10:48 pm (UTC)By the end of the story, S-4 is tearing up again. Frisk deserved so much. They had so many good friends, and they loved every one of them. S-4 should have read to them sooner. He should have found gifts to give them. He should have been the kind of friend that was in the story.
But here he is, trying to become that much too late.
He leans against Sans-Serif as he closes the book, sniffling.
"...I'm sorry, Frisk. I-I wasn't very good."