“Yo, guys!” Tamsin’s voice was bright and excited. Their adrenaline fueled eagerness pushing through the exhaustion of their fight. “We kicked it’s ass. Tonnerre you were like, ‘shing shink’,” Tamsin gestured with his own solid cleaver, mumbling around the hilt. “And Frisk you were like ‘Hya! Bam!’.” Still mumbling, kicking out their legs to demonstrate. Tucking the cleaver back behind them, Ta...

While Tonnerre had under-estimated the ability of Frisk’s little bat, she had neither apologized nor acknowledged the fatalistic statement she had made shortly before the cavern had opened up again. If any of the party had attempted to call her on it, she simply tossed her mane and continued forward as if she had not heard them at all. It was not a thing that warranted discussion, and in truth, her feelings on it had not changed.  ...

Prosper had declined to come along; that should’ve been Frisk’s first clue.  “Did you have a weird dream about it or something?” she had demanded; but they had shaken their head and wished them well, which she didn’t think they’d do if it meant they all ended up dead, so — fine.  She’d gone.  ...