SAVE FILE TWO LOADED

Toriel had been a mother. Such was obvious by the way she went about worriedly, tending to my healthy state – certain I had been hit with the plague by the way I'd crumbled into her arms. Of course, even with knowledge and constant reminders of how I'd fallen from the world of humans and collapsed after a moment's sadness, I'd forgotten anything had even existed. Hell, I hardly could register the fact that there were two "worlds" of separation to begin with. My mind had been cast in shambles, and the only words I had to hold were this creature's and the surprisingly still recalled dialogue from the flower that spoke.

The flower who had tried to kill me in this sense.

After I'd come to, I had found myself in the most comfortable of conditions, lying beneath the sheets and comforters of a bed with a piece of butterscotch… and cinnamon…? It was one of the two, if not both flavors of pie, welcoming me with a sweet, stomach churning aroma. Along with it was a note in lovely, typical motherly writing: 'Forgive me if you had a preference over one or the other. I couldn't decide between the two, and I meant to ask which you would have preferred. Oh I do hope you aren't allergic, but I don't anything else to make with this recipe so I do hope you enjoy it. Also I hope you are well, and if you feel you are lonely I am outside your room to the far left and I don't even know your name. I shouldn't-'

And I couldn't make out the rest due to scribbles and endless notions of frantic apologies and combinations of "my child". In the end, she didn't specify the ingredients. I simply assumed they were of a butterscotch or cinnamon related scent.

My preference seemed to be the least of my concerns, however and so I tried to eat in a civilized manner, starved from the unknown time span of my last meal. Then afterwards, as soon as I'd poked at and licked away at the last of the crumbs, I mentally craved the meaning of Toriel's words and wandered out to the slightly illuminated hallway. I had assumed it was the middle of the night, but how was one able to tell when living practically underground in the RUINS? So I took the left, and hurried on down to the first door. Unthinkingly, I checked over to the right, just to note the structure of the place and as I turned back the other way, almost shrieked at the tall, skinny shadow that seemed to block my vision, but on closer inspection and a random burst of courage, I noted the frightening shape to belong to what I believed was a plant. A non-homicidal one at that.

"Water sausages," I breathed, then shook my head in confusion. The absurdities that seemed to fall from my mouth. I couldn't place it.

Once I'd collected myself the best I could manage, I traveled back down the lengthy area and hesitantly placed my hand on the door handle. Wondering it would be considered rude, I pondered knocking, but feared she would be asleep. I worried so intently on the matter that minutes had passed, then an hour, and then I was curled along the frame of it, beginning to doze off…

"Child?"

But then the door creaked open and I was startled awake by her groggy expression melting into that of pure worriment.

"…sorry," I mumbled sleepily, in between the land of reality and dream. Surely this was the more realistic part, right? Or was I asleep? I was beginning to find it harder and harder to accept the possibility, despite all the bizarre sights and feelings I experienced in this short time…

Or had it been short? I'd gobbled that pie like I'd never feasted in my life. How long had I been passed out? But Toriel came across me, hadn't she? Did she come across the area much? And what in the world was she? Where on earth –

"Can you stand?"

I seemed practically incapable of speech. With a soft nod, I lifted my hands to the woman, willing myself to make use of my legs. But without warning, Toriel simply carried the entirety of my weight like it was nothing. Up and around I went into her room, and with a casual tuck in by her massive arms, I was swept neatly and sweetly at her side.

What else could I do but snuggle up to the gesture? As I cascaded down into a blissful night's rest, I felt the soft brushes of her paws threading through my hair lovingly. Like comforting a lost child.

…

"Toriel, how do I exit these RUINS?"

I was met with a wave a silence followed by her energetic outburst of some books she had for us to read together. It'd been a couple of days since that night I fainted. Ever since then, I'd found it too eerie to sleep in my own bedroom, as Toriel claimed it to be mine. The place felt borrowed. Haunted even.

"Toriel, how do I get back up to where I came from?" I tried once more. Her eyes cast away for the briefest of moments in a sort of panicked thought. Then she focused back upon my stoic stature with a forced smile, rocking back further in her chair, the glasses sliding from the brim of her nose to drive the illusion of her large, crystal stare.

"My dearest child, why don't you sit over here by the fire and I'll bake us some more pie? You seemed to enjoy it the first time," she sang with a hitch in her throat. I sighed at the memories of eating more than my fair share of them the following nights.

"Yes, Toriel," I tried to say with a lighter tone, prying for her listening ears. "But, I'm wondering if you would just tell me how I can go about figuring out how I came to falling here, and where I came from. Or maybe you could just tell me what rests beyond those doors in the basement –"

"There is nothing for you to see down in that darkened place," she interrupted suddenly, looking quite stern. I nearly jumped at this unusually defensive side of her. Just the other night I'd attempted to trek down those stairs of which had been a mystery to me the morning following my first night here. They seemed to snake down into another dimension with some dark, yet hopeful, intent. It almost beckoned with – those unseen forces – and I'd want to crawl down to find out just what sort of secrets lay in this mother's den. But of course just as I'd come across a couple of corners to find a massive barrier, Toriel had appeared from thin air, hasty in her efforts to whisk me away back and up to the safety of the upstairs. We'd hardly spoken of the manner, and I in attempt to keep her happy with me, held my tongue. But now, I just had to understand my drive to exit this sacred place. I had to learn the mystery not only of the outside, but inside these barricaded walls of my mind.

"Please. I just want to understand why I can't remember – "

"Isn't it for the best, then?" Toriel asked, her paws shutting the book in a aggressive yet polite manner. Seemingly shocked by her tragic display of exasperation, she took a deep breath, leaning into a pitiful expression of despair. "There are those of us who would relish in the blessing of a new start; of forgetting even the most hurtful of memories."

My head bowed down in a motion of shame for triggering whatever it was that seemed to eat into that pure soul of hers. A part of me considered just dropping it and caving into yet another stomach churningly sweet episode of dessert, but I couldn't dismiss the screaming questions in my relentless consciousness.

"I'm sorry, but it's something I have to do."

"No, it is something you FEEL you must do. And wanting to do something or having to do such are two entirely different things."

"Not always, Toriel," I argued quietly. "Not always."

She stood up in a frighteningly unexpected motion that I actually did find myself leaping up, flinching at the absurd thought that she would strike at me. Such motion on my part however, caused her to wince and she sadly took in my appearance before softly speaking to no one in particular.

"I must tend to something. Stay here."

And with that, she left in the direction of what I knew to be the basement.

I knew exactly what she intended to do, and so with a rush of adrenaline, I took quick pursuit only to find a Froggit hopping in the midst of my path.

These little creatures roamed all about the RUINS and were typically harmless. I hadn't wandered much further than the front yard area from the house, but from the few that had bravely or happened to end up at the door, clueless, I'd learned a few things. Driven into delirious depression from whatever foul things others may have said to them upon their travels (although I could only think of Toriel passing along through here with that repulsed expression towards them…) they were only calmed by words of encouragement and compliments. I never really believed they could understand me, but such were the most effective ways of passing them by without stepping on them. Or giving them terrifying looks – like by Toriel.

Puzzled by this one's lack of drive, though, I pondered aloud about its presence. In reply, much to my astonishment, it croaked a series of understandable cries. One word in particular seemed to come to me in an intriguing sense: Napstablook.

"What?" I wondered, craning my neck to note the horns of Toriel disappearing down below my sights upon the stairs. "What about this…Nap a stabbed look?" Furiously, the miniature frog shook its body, repeating itself loudly and with a clearer pronunciation.

"Napstablook?" I repeated and nodded at the Froggit's frantic nods. I could only assume it was a name. Once that didn't drive an explosion of déjà vu from my chaotic mind. So naturally, I was drawn to the idea of investigating, but there was the issue of Toriel destroying that doorway. My key out of this place.

So I did what I thought would snap her into joining my side. I cried out for help.

"Toriel! Please! There was an incident!" I shouted with as much forced devastation as I could muster. Just as I knew she would, she appeared in a sprint at the top of the stairs, barely breathless and cast her eyes immediately upon the Froggit. Her body went rigid, her eyes cold as daggers. The creature seemed to shrink before her fierce scowl. Even without saying anything, Toriel managed to have the thing spilling out a series of blubbered apologies for hopping in her home without permission, but he just had to come and seek the aid of the one they said complemented everyone for she could help assist in moving the ghost that had blocked the way back to the other side of the area.

"I thought I'd already taken care of that," she heaved and the monster shuddered violently with changed speech of "yes, yes you are quite right, I am completely in the wrong and I'll be heading on my way out, ribbit!"

"Hold on," I pondered, interrupting his seizure-like display of fear towards the caretaker. "I've actually been meaning to explore more of the area." In my mind I was hoping for a means of opening Toriel to the relief of me deciding to stay – at least long enough for me to buy time to steal away into the night when she'd fall heavily asleep. "I'd like very much to help out this ghost if it means learning the grounds more since I am living here after all."

For a moment she seemed on the verge of arguing just to drive more panic into the Froggit, but at the final bit in my comment, her eyes lit up.

"Of course, my child. If that is what you wish, let us go and check on the status of Napstablook. From what I recall, he wasn't feeling too well. It wouldn't surprise me too terribly much to find him back and moping in that depressing state of his…" she trailed off with a morphing expression of worriment to which I quickly assured.

"I doubt he'll be in much despair when I go over to him. Let me give him a quick talk. Maybe I can pull forth a few laughs." I beamed for added effect, catching the Froggit staring at me in awe…blushing and swiftly turning away to the opposite direction… which was towards Toriel who was back to hating upon the creature once more.

"Okay. Lead us then. But lose your composure and accidently harm this child… you will croak a final time."

Even I shivered in appearance of a bitter chill, swallowing dryly with the Froggit. But as if nothing happened, she faced me with that motherly smile of hers, cheerily pulling me forth with her paw to take through the pathway. I refrained from sighing at such behavior. It'd only been a few days and I was already feeling suffocated. But if things could run a fraction of the way I wanted tonight, surely I'd be able to get out and into the world beyond.