The Caretaker
Frisk shrunk away. The Feline wore a large purple dress, or, it looked like a dress, and had white blistens for her eyes. "P-please..... Don't kill me..." Whimpered Frisk. The Feline gave a curious mew. Frisk looked up. "Oh. Right. Felines can't speak mouse." Then the Feline let out what sounded like a chuckle."Mice do not have their own language, my mousling."
Frisk was surprised to hear that, but she ran her paws over her mouse ears and took out a butterfly knife. She squeaked, "Show yourself!" And a furry white paw grabbed the butterfly knife and pulled it out of Frisk's grasp. "We don't use these in the Cat ruins." And, from out of the shadows, The Feline of Legend stepped into the light.
She had gleaming Sky-blue irises, and wore a purple dress with a simbol that looked like whiskers and an upsidey-down paw print.
'No surprise' thought Frisk, 'She's a white maine coon.'
Frisk stood up and looked at her. She flicked her fluffy, sweeping tail and said, "Hello, my mousling. My name is Kittoriel, Caretaker of the Cat ruins."
Frisk admired Kittoriel, how here name was pretty much a cat pun (WELL, WHADDAYAH KNOW, SANS!) And how she was pretty fearless to her butterfly knife. Frisk reached for it, and Kittoriel glady handed it back. It sliced at Kittoriel's paw when Frisk took it from her. The mouse smiled, and it quickly vanished when she saw a small beed of blood forming on her paw. Frisk frowned and gasped, and exclaimed, "Kittoriel! I'm sorry! Do you need a-" "It is okay, my mousling, I can patch it up when we get home."
Kittoriel intervined. But wait....
Did she say.......
Home?
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