Hildatale

Part 2- Hilda and the Caretaker

Howdy! It's me, Flowey the Flower! Before we begin the next part, why don't we appreciate the incredible artwork of the author... NOT! Of course they didn't draw this! They just copied a poster from an actual artist named Jeffrey Argueta, stretched out Frisk's hair, turned it blue, and slapped on a beret! So don't go thinking they deserve any credit for this piece!

Ahem... Now that that's out of the way, enjoy Part 2!

Hilda- *entering the house, taking in a deep breath* Ahh, what's that smell?

Toriel- Surprise! It's a cinnamon-butterscotch pie!

H- Oh! That's why you were asking me those strange questions! That's one mystery solved.

T- I thought we might celebrate your arrival. I want you to have a nice time living here. So I will hold off on snail pie for now.

H- Oh. Thanks, I guess.

T- Here, I have another surprise for you.

Hilda follows Toriel down a hall to the right. They stop in front of the first door.

T- This is it... A room of your own. I hope you like it!

H- Thanks. I could use a place to rest.

Toriel smells the air.

T- Is something burning...? Um, make yourself at home!

H- Do you need any help?

T- No no, it's all fine!

While Toriel runs to the kitchen, Hilda opens the door and walks into her new room.

The room looks comfortable, if not a little lived in. There are stuffed animals by the bed and a box of shoes. Does Toriel wear shoes? Two lamps in the back corners light up the room. Hilda checks the wardrobe. It is full of striped shirts. Who were these for?

H- I think I'll keep my coat for now. *yawn* Today's been kind of crazy. It'll be nice to lay down, *yawn* just for a little bit.

Hilda takes off her boots and hat and crawls into the soft looking bed. Her eyelids grow heavy as sleep takes over. 

?- Hilda, I made you a pie.

Hilda sits up a little as her mum walks into the moonlit room, a plate of pie in her hand.

Mum- I'll set it here on the floor.

H- Thank you, mum. I'll have it when I get up.

Hilda looks out her bedroom window and sees the moon, the mountains, the round, furry migrating woffs flying across the sky.

H- ...I love it here. I never want to leave.

M- Oh Hilda. You know things change.

H- But I don't want to move. This is Home.

M- Maybe... home is not a specific house.

H- What do you mean?

M- Home... is where your loved ones are. It's where you're surrounded by family and friends who care about you.

H- Like Frida and David?

M- Exactly! They may not actually live with us, but their friendship is what can make Trolberg home for you.

H- But, this isn't Trolberg. This is our old house, the one that got destroyed... I'm dreaming aren't I?

Her mum's face instantly morphs into one of a murderous flower.