"I have HP to spare." A shrug of their shoulders, cold and distant. Tear tracks down Frisk's face and scratches from claws. Naturally, they turn their concern outward rather than inward.
They really have been utterly lost without anyone's guidance.
"You, on the other hand?" 20 HP gives you hardly any buffer. Surely you would know by now. Asgore taught them that lesson quite well. Again. And again. And again.
i want smore of that
They really have been utterly lost without anyone's guidance.
"You, on the other hand?" 20 HP gives you hardly any buffer. Surely you would know by now. Asgore taught them that lesson quite well. Again. And again. And again.