They were siblings—brother and sister. Couldn't be more un-alike if they were different creatures, though. Come to think of it, kinda reminds me of Pap and his brother . . .
She crept along behind him, peering to the sides and over her shoulder every few seconds. Every shadow was another monster attack waiting to happen, every step taking them closer to the more populated parts of the ruins.
"Come on, Sis! We'll never find the exit if we don't step it up and take chances! Don't you want to get home?"
She scowled at him. He was so impatient! For all they knew, the goat lady might have been telling the truth. But he didn't trust her; he wanted to find the exit on his own. She was perfectly fine with waiting.
She did try to hurry up, though.
She stood frozen, staring at the pile of dust at her brother's feet. Her toy knife trembled in her tight grasp. Her mouth felt dry. Her stomach felt cold.
In her peripheral, she could see him brushing dust from his gloves. "You alright?" His breathing was labored, but his voice casual.
Her grip tightened. She swallowed, took a quick but deliberate breath, and turned to him. "I'm not going a step further."
His look of concern turned to a frown. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"I can't take this anymore!" Her voice was rising. "These creatures don't seem to mean us any harm; we have no reason to kill them like this! We should have waited for Toriel. We probably could have been out of the Ruins by now!"
His frown turned to a scowl. "We definitely could have," he growled, "if you weren't slowing us down with your careful puzzle-solving and feet-dragging. Don't you see these monsters want to kill us?! I'm not leaving my life in the hands of some creature that doesn't even have hands!"
"She just wanted to help us!"
"You don't know that!"
"I'm not going any further until she comes back!"
"Well I'm not waiting for her to come kill me!"
"Go on then! I don't need you murdering everyone around me!"
"Fine! Be that way!"
He spun on his heal and practically charged out of the room. She squatted down on the floor and crossed her arms, still gripping her knife.
The room was large, slightly longer than it was wide. There were holes in the wall, passages up from the secret chambers under the floor. They had explored most of the chambers in search of a switch to deactivate the room's trap. She wondered if the holes they had made in the cracked floor would remain, or if they would be fixed when the trap was reset.
As the minutes passed, the sound of her breathing seemed to get louder and louder. She kept stealing glances at the exit, but nothing appeared there. She tried not to look at the shadows.
It wasn't very cold in the Ruins, despite being very open-air. She supposed it had something to do with being so far underground. The atmosphere was heavy; there was little to no movement in the air.
Time seemed to have slowed down. She didn't take her eyes off the doorway.
". . . Dillan?"
Softly.
". . . Dillan?"
Slightly louder.
She realized she was trembling slightly.
. . .
"Ribbit?"
She leapt away with a scream, accidentally falling through a cracked floor. Before she descended into the chamber, she saw a terrified frog-monster hopping away rapidly.
For a few moments, she simply lay on the leaves where she had fallen. Her breathing slowed but remained uneven. She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes tightly. The tears came anyway.
She had some intelligence, but not enough guts to assert herself. More patience then I though was possible, even for a cyan soul. In the end, though, that was her downfall.