A drop here, a drop there (a one-shots/snippet book)

Icarus' Flight (Undertale)

Monsters.

The wingless.

It is what legends call the creatures that were sealed under Mt. Ebott. The creatures without wings, unworthy of flight and forever grounded. The few that are capable of flight, are said to be so inhuman in shape that none would be able to call them human. Their monstrous forms and their lack of the beautiful wings that all humans possess made them known to another name.

Demons.

Demons are said to be viscous and cruel, having killed millions of humans in a war long ago. That war was said to have spanned multiple lifetimes, and it was only through the power of seven wizards that the world now no longer needed to fear the demons.

But sometimes, a child would wander up the mountain and they would disappear. It is said that they were taken by the demons, their flesh used to satisfy the hunger that remained unfulfilled for years and years.

At least...that's what Frisk learned, when she was warned about wandering too far from the forest.

Frisk was skeptical about the story, and as most children were wont to do, ended up wandering in the forbidden place at the jeering dares of her peers.

Now...now, as furry hands cradled her injured wing with surprising gentleness, a glow replacing the pain with warmth and numbness, she was skeptical in a different way.

Toriel's eyes were aware and sapient, a far cry from the mindless monsters that the stories made these creatures to be. And they were warm. When Frisk was bleeding on the floor, and when she tried to drag herself away regardless of injuries, the demon didn't try to finish the job.

Toriel instead had fallen to a knee and tried to calm Frisk in a soft voice. It introduced itself, and had told Frisk that it can...heal her.

A demon. Healing.

Frisk was already dying, she was scared, and Toriel's worried brown eyes reminded her of her own late mother, so Frisk had nodded and tried not to flinch when the monster moved closer.

Frisk stifled a sob when she moved her wing and felt not even a twinge of pain. She can still move it effortlessly, she can still fly. Frisk held it against her chest with trembling hands. She wasn't grounded.

"Are you alright, my child?" Toriel asked softly, making Frisk look up. Its... Her eyes were gentle and reassuring. "Do you have any more injuries?"

She sniffled and shook her head, peering up at the the demon shyly. "T-thank you..."

Toriel smiled, and Frisk was struck by how warmer her expression was, now that it wasn't filled with worry. "That is good. Are you ready to get up?"

At Frisk's nod, she offered a hand. It was big, bigger than any human hand Frisk had ever seen. It dwarfed her own small hand when she took it, and the monster helped her up with a single pull.

"My house is a long ways walk from here, but we can rest for a few minutes if you feel tired," Toriel said, and Frisk hesitated.

She was curious. She wanted to see more of this place and... a small part of her wanted to stay with Toriel for a little while longer.

But she can't. Her friends would worry, the townsfolk would worry. Some might even try to follow Frisk up the mountain, and possibly meet a monster who is not as kind as Toriel. Frisk herself would've died from that yellow flower if Toriel hadn't saved her.

So Frisk slowly shook her head and said, "I need to go home."

"Ah..." Toriel hesitated. "I'm afraid that going home is not possible."