[Curious, she tilts her head to peer at the writing as Frisk completes it . . . and what she reads brings a series of blinks.]
[It's still strange . . . the idea of someone -- multiple someones -- trying to take care of her, even in such a simple way. It may be some time before she's used to it.]
[More likely, she suspects, she may never be used to it at all.]
Thank you. [The words are still soft, but her voice gentles, warms.] I don't eat.
no subject
[It's still strange . . . the idea of someone -- multiple someones -- trying to take care of her, even in such a simple way. It may be some time before she's used to it.]
[More likely, she suspects, she may never be used to it at all.]
Thank you. [The words are still soft, but her voice gentles, warms.] I don't eat.
[Hesitation.] What . . . were you drawing?