Heh, right. Ol' Rocky. [Sans shoves his hands deeper in his pockets, walking alongside his brother.] He's probably starving.
[The walk is quiet. No sounds of squabbling teens, no lilting cries of parents calling for their children. Snowdin was always a warm, friendly town, befitting the fuzzy people who inhabited it. Sans and Papyrus, while short in the fuzz department, fit in well there.
It's a place Sans felt like he'd always belonged to, even if it didn't start that way.
And now, it was dead. Dust mixed with snow seemed to cover everything, unsettling him while the nearly-filled in tracks of fleeing civilians ran frantically eastward.
Followed by a deeper, more solitary set of footprints in the same direction.]
no subject
[The walk is quiet. No sounds of squabbling teens, no lilting cries of parents calling for their children. Snowdin was always a warm, friendly town, befitting the fuzzy people who inhabited it. Sans and Papyrus, while short in the fuzz department, fit in well there.
It's a place Sans felt like he'd always belonged to, even if it didn't start that way.
And now, it was dead. Dust mixed with snow seemed to cover everything, unsettling him while the nearly-filled in tracks of fleeing civilians ran frantically eastward.
Followed by a deeper, more solitary set of footprints in the same direction.]
... Papyrus?