[Damn. That really is a hellstorm. Why the queen needed a royal guard was beyond him, because it was clear she could take care of business her damn self. The attacker shrieks and the vines start to retract, loosening their grip on Sans. Toriel can catch him easily.
He lets out another shaky breath.]
Thanks.
[Was that the edges of his vision getting hazy? What the hell. He hoped not. Maybe it was just her attack. Yeah. That's probably why he was sweating, to boot.]
no subject
He lets out another shaky breath.]
Thanks.
[Was that the edges of his vision getting hazy? What the hell. He hoped not. Maybe it was just her attack. Yeah. That's probably why he was sweating, to boot.]