Chapter Text
It was snowing way, way too much that evening. The howling of the wind nearly drowned out everything, including the hurried crunch of their footsteps.
You couldn’t really blame her for being so spooked, initially.
When she’d first spotted them on the horizon, she’d almost thought they were a ghost; and not in the traditional monster sense. A mere silhouette, brought on by her lack of sleep these days—she’d just assumed the figure would disappear soon enough, when she looked away for a second, but instead…
There they were.
She stopped outside the door of her inn, ducking behind one its outer walls as she observed.
The figure wasn’t running—they moved along at a faux calm pace, just a bit too fast. Almost speed-walking through. Almost as if they were trying to make their steps seem inconspicuous as possible, their entire presence, maybe.
It certainly begged the question why, but at the time, something else caught her forefront attention:
They were holding… Something.
A bundle, that is.
But of what…?
The slightly perturbed rabbit monster almost considered going out and confronting them directly, but… That in itself brought up a whole host of issues. She’d never known anyone to be particularly dangerous, especially not in Snowdin Town, but she wasn’t entirely sure this person was from Snowdin in the first place. They’d been coming from the direction of Waterfall, and even if their home still resided here, this figure didn’t…
Well.
They weren’t familiar to her, simply put. She would have remembered such a short, stocky individual in a ratty old hoodie. It didn’t help they actively shielded their face with their hood, so she wasn’t even sure what kind of monster they were.
It… Might have been nothing. Really, she wasn’t one to assume the worst, and this didn’t exactly scream suspicious to her, but even then…
. . . Something felt off.
Try as she might have, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
Her confusion and curiosity, along with her newfound anxiety continued to heighten as they approached Grillby’s. For once she saw the figure noticeably pause, as though the bright, yet warm lights from inside intrigued them, footsteps in the snow slowing. They hunched in on themselves, keeping out of sight as they crept just inches closer.
They observed a moment. Staring, it seemed. Watching from the outside the silhouetted forms on the inside.
…
They didn’t stay for long.
The figure slowly, delicately made their way up to the steps leading to the door. Would they go inside? she wondered. But then, they hesitated much too long.
What were they…?
She couldn’t see their expression; couldn’t read their body language at all, so what happened next threw her off guard just a bit.
The figure stood still before they suddenly stooped to set the bundle down on the steps—too, too gently, she noted—and rose back up to rap on the door in quick succession, exactly three times.
And then they disappeared.
Literally.
They bolted off the steps, ran not even more than two seconds, and the blizzard itself seemed to swallow them up.
Original plan all but forgotten, the bunny monster practically staggered out from her hiding spot, at the same time Grillby’s door swung wide open.
Grillby himself stood there, flickering rather luminously in the fog, seeming rather confused as he looked around—and then he looked down.
His body burned even brighter, somehow, a jolt of white tinting his flames just for a moment. And just as she all but ran up, the elemental monster, in one swift movement, swept the bundle from the steps into his arms.
So, she found out the mystery of what the bundle was, not even needing to take more than a peek at the little one’s face, burrowed deep inside a blanket, fussing and crying and for all a baby could convey, distraught. He’d apparently just woken up when Grillby found him, and the poor thing just wouldn’t stop sobbing from then on.
Explaining everything she saw prior, and how the baby had got there once they entered the restaurant didn’t help matters, either. She was pretty certain almost half of Grillby’s patrons didn’t even believe her, but at least Grillby himself and the dogs backed her up. Nobody had a better explanation for how a baby skeleton could have suddenly appeared in Snowdin, after all.
Eventually, the mystery and intrigue of it all died down in the early hours of the morning, as everyone started to leave and make their way home. Grillby, ever the kind soul, insisted she do the same but…
As an expecting mother herself, she just couldn’t shake it. On her good conscience she could never leave a child to fend for themselves, and she knew the worried bartender had not the time or space to keep a little one around. He couldn’t take care of him—and someone had to.
So, she made up her mind.
She returned home to her sister in the inn that night, tired, and bewildered, and with a lot of answers to give.
But she also returned with a baby skeleton.
One that only stopped wailing when he’d completely exhausted himself, one that only finally fell asleep the next morning because she’d held him all through the night. One that, as far as she knew, had no home or family.
As far she knew, that very family had abandoned him that very night.
And, she, on her part?
She was Determined to not let the same ever, ever happen again.