interitus×decay

2: Isolation

    The woman, Frisk found, was a tad neurotic. She constantly fretted over the smallest of things, always warned not to touch something nearby and was quick to shoo away any bugs that flew by. Frisk, luckily, was used to this kind of behavior - the old woman who used to watch the children of their orphanage often acted this way. So it didn't really bother them that she tended to coddle them, even if they really didn't need it.

    She rambled a lot, as well, to the point where even Frisk wasn't able to keep up with what she was saying. They were pretty sure they heard her say her name at least twice now, but they'd been so caught up in trying to keep up with her fast walking that they'd forgotten to actually hear what she was saying. Being a taller woman, she took much longer strides than their short kid legs could even hope to imitate, resulting in them having to run to keep up with her. They only were able to stop when she paused to solve some quick puzzle before hurrying off again.
    "We're making good time," she said, hopeful, "we should be home in about ten minutes, if there are no complications."
    For the first time in the entire walk from the rot to where they were standing, the goat woman was able to get a good look at the child following her. She'd been so focused on getting from point A to point B that she'd completely forgotten her manners, something the woman had always been particular about. First impressions, regardless of the situation, were always important. She fumbled over her words and anxiously shifted her weight.
    "Dear, I suppose I've been quite rude, haven't I? Where are my manners..." she bent to the child's height and smiled behind her mask, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "My child, what is your name?"
    The question wasn't going anywhere, so Frisk signed without hesitation this time.
    'My name is Frisk.'
    It was then that the child removed their goggles and lifted their mask. They both rested on top of their head, messy brown hair sticking out at all angles.
    "My apologies, child, you just," she paused to swipe off a clump of dried dirt stuck to their cheek, "you just reminded me of someone. They also spoke with their hands."
    They smiled wide, showing off their lack of front bottom teeth. She, looking not as stressed as before, was able to relax a little and take the mask off her face for a moment to introduce herself. She looked a lot like Asriel when she smiled.

    "My name is Toriel, dear," she said, "it's a pleasure to meet such a sweet young child."
They continued (slower, this time) through the Ruins for quite a long time. Toriel held their hand now, allowing herself to forget her paranoia for the sake of manners and being a good host. Even in times like these, she knew she likely wouldn't have anyone else to talk to for quite a while, so she mustn't make them feel unwelcome.
    "I've been living alone in these Ruins for years..."
    It certainly looked that way. Most of the corridors they walked through looked old, and worn down. The purple brick had long since begun to crack and crumble, what wasn't now covered in a thick layer of dust or mold. The floor was so dirty that they left footprints where the dust had been disturbed. Abandoned cobwebs littered the corners, and there were no other living things left in the Ruins besides them and the overpopulation of bugs. No matter how many times Frisk swatted them away, flies still buzzed irritably in their ears.
    "After the rot began to form, everyone... didn't quite make it. Well, everyone except me," she expertly led them through every twist and turn they came across. Toriel knew the entire Ruins like the back of her hand, despite her ever-present hate of the place. "So I stay here and make sure the rot never leaves. Admittedly, it is quite lonely here, so it's a lovely surprise having you here."
    'What happened to everyone else?' they had to repeat themselves a few times before Toriel noticed they were signing, but she knew what they said, at least.
    "The sickness got to them, even the ones who guarded the exit, through the doors in my home. Though I never wish you to go through there."
    At that moment, a house came into sight. It was a cute, tidy looking home, a stark contrast to the mess and mold surrounding it. She obviously took very good care of it.
    "Through the doors, the disease has still manifested. Only there, it is cold, and harsh. Every day, it takes another monster's life. This mold is much more powerful than us."
    She looked solemn, and grew quiet. Toriel was still grieving, though she'd rather not say it aloud (admitting such a thing would only prompt her to grow more emotional.) And what kind of host would she be, to become so emotionally invested in something while guests are surely hungry? No, this could wait. She had a lovely visitor to bake for.