Chapter 2
Chapter 2
You woke up slowly, nightmares of dancing flower is receding from your mind. Again you kept your eyes closed, taking in your surroundings. You were on a bed it seemed, softer than any you'd slept in before. Your arm still hurt, but it was more of a dull ache now. You could hear someone moving about another room, and smelled something sweet.
You peaked open one eye first, then the other, looking around before sitting up gingerly. The soft pink's of the room calmed you, filling you with determination. Looking down at your arm, you saw that it was bandaged and in a sling. You tested opening and closing your hand, and while it hurt a good amount, you could use it and make a fist.
Without warning the door open, and the goat lady from before came in, a tray with what appeared to be pie and some soup in her hands. She looked at you and surprise, and you felt your face shut down, eyes drifting to your lap. "Oh, I hope I did not wake you, dear child." She spoke gently, and something about her voice made you want to cry. A softness you hadn't heard before. Instead you kept your eyes on your hands, scared to move. Maybe she was nice now, but that wouldn't last. It never did.
Smiling warmly she set down the tray of food on the foot of the bed and sat down on the floor, tucking her dress underneath her. You were hungry but didn't make a move for the food, didn't move it all. She was a monster. Didn't monsters eat people? You looked at her with your peripheral vision, a skill you had long since mastered. She was beautiful.
She didn't seem upset by your silence, but filled it instead. "My name is Toriel. I am the keeper of the ruins. I am happy I found you when I did. What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth." She shook her head, looking away as anger flashed across her face, but then looked back at you with a smile.
"I have healed your arm, and bandaged it. It will take some time to mend completely, but you should be right as rain in no time. For now, why not have something to eat? Do you like butterscotch? I have made some butterscotch cinnamon pie. There is also soup, if you would like." Her smile didn't waver at your lack of response, if anything her face seemed to soften even more. She nodded once, then stood up.
"All will be well my child, you will see. Please, have something to eat. If you need me I will be out in the living room, or in my room, the very last door down the hall. Between our rooms is the washroom. Please do not hesitate to bother me if you need anything." She reached out and patted your hand gently, pausing slightly when you flinched, before leaving the room and closing the door softly.
You waited until you heard her walk away to relax, then waited until you hadn't heard a noise from her in a while. Carefully you reached out your good arm and grabbed the bowl of soup, pulling it into your lap. It had long since gone cold, but was delicious still. You ate it greedily, not remembering the last time you ate.
Once the soup was drained you started on the pie with equal gusto, savoring the taste. Never had you had something so good before, so sweet and filling and somehow still warm. You put the empty dish back on the tray then snuggled under the blankets. Your full stomach and the warm room filled you with determination.