UNDER♡TALE volume 1 (under hiatus)

Fall

To her awareness, this would be, by far, the most irrational thing she has ever done, and yet had no care for what was logical or not. Frisk's main concern was to have a diversion from the melancholy eating up her spirit. Now yearning to find any clues to help her know where she has come from and not the slightest bit aware of how abnormally fast the rain clouds are growing. She didn't even stop to look at the upcoming billboard advertising a new suburb, now in the process to start construction in a week from now.

Relief washes over Frisk when she finds herself reaching closer to the edge of the woods. She no longer has to walk through Border Bluff's tall, itchy grass. If I'm lucky, I wont be infected by lime-disease, she figures.

The woods seemed more foreboding up close as she walks further in. Increasing the distance from the woods' perimeter, the birds' chirping diminished. It was very quiet now. Nothing but Frisk's own foot steps can be heard upon the earthy floor. Signs of woodland life were not made known by her presence as an outsider. Squirrels would be scurrying about, collecting and hoarding food to eat and ration for the winter. There were none to be seen. She keeps on moving.

With the ease of wind blowing her shoulder-length, molasses colored hair out of her face, Frisk pushes the atmosphere aside. Her eyes drawn to where the mountain's incline begins.

♡

It got steeper every four feet. This would not help Frisk manage her high-metabolism. But her will to keep going was far greater to stop and rest. She picks up a yard-long stick from the ground to support herself throughout the hike.

She follows an abandon mountain path. It leads her to a narrow walkway that courses itself around the side of the mountain. The use of a hiking stick was not needed for the narrow path as the fog was picking up and thickened any line of sight.

   Frisk secures the stick to one of her satchel's back belts, and cautions herself along the side of the mountain. She traces her hands against the towering cliff and slides her feet slowly along the mountain's edge incase there were any loose rubble. So far the path was pretty stable. The cliff reaches a sharp left turn, bringing Frisk staggering for more support. She trips. Her hands and knees make contact to solid ground in an instant. After managing to bring her heart back to a softer rhythm, Frisk releases one more exhale before she strips her satchel off of her shoulders to swing it around and placing it on her lap. She detaches the stick.

As if she were blind, and in this case she might as well be with the murky air consuming her vision, Frisk slowly traces the stick's end along the ground. She finds herself walking between a hidden canyon of the mountain.

The canyon walls dispersed at an opening where they appear to curve outward. It was hard to tell where she was going at this point. She grows worrisome after taking five reluctant steps strait with the assistance of her new guiding stick. How do blind people even do this?

While keeping close to the wall like land formation on the left, her right consisted of twigs branching downward from the fog, their ends were six-feet above the ground. There looked to be hints of small buds decorating them. She takes this into further inspection. Tracing the stick along the ground again as she approaches the plant like object. Looks like a weeping-willow.

   Frisk continues to stare up at the tree. The awareness of what she was doing with the dead piece of wood drifted out of her mind; aimlessly sliding it's end in a zig-zag formation upon the loose dirt. Not paying any attention, she trips over a risen root, falling face forward. The ground gives way during the impact, discovered to be the roof of a cavern.