[She keeps moving to the tent without looking. But was that really a surprise? That she was avoiding looking at him properly. Even if she spoke, she kept her head ducked.]

I guess. It was the middle of the night. I noticed something the moment he went... [If he'd been beckoned like Mettaton said, she didn't know. It hadn't felt like it had when he'd returned for a little while and came back.

But with them reaching the tent, she turns, shuffling so she can sit on a crate. She didn't need to do it so he could reach her wounds. If anything it made it harder for Mettaton to reach them with the differences in their heights. But she was tired, too tired to talk about this and remain on her crutches. They get leant against the side.] It's...It's probably for the best. He'd have wanted to be at the festival.

[He would have liked it. The colours, the music, the plays...She could see him playing hero with those kids. But he wasn't much of a fighter. He could dodge well enough, he had good reflexes but...]