The air in Snowdin Forest bit with a crisp, frosty edge, the kind that stung the cheeks and made every breath a visible puff of defiance against the cold. Pine trees loomed overhead, their needles dusted with snow that glittered like crushed diamonds under the pale, overcast sky. Rhea trudged through the crunching powder, her boots leaving determined impressions in the pristine white. Her auburn hair spilled out from under a fur-lined hood, and her sharp green eyes scanned the trail ahead with the focus of a predator. She wasn’t here for games, but the skeleton trailing behind her seemed hell-bent on playing one.
“ya know, i gotta hand it to my bro, papyrus,” Sans drawled, his voice a lazy rumble that somehow carried over the muffled stillness of the forest. His bony hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his blue hoodie, and his perpetual grin seemed to mock the very concept of effort as he shuffled along behind her. “he’s got a real *bone-ified* knack for makin’ puzzles. too bad they’re about as effective as a screen door on a submarine.”
Rhea didn’t bother turning around. She kept her pace steady, her long coat swishing with each powerful stride. “If I wanted a comedy routine, I’d have hired a clown, not a walking bag of bones,” she shot back, her tone as icy as the wind whipping through the trees. “Pick up the pace, Sans. I’m not freezing my ass off out here to listen to your stand-up.”
Sans chuckled, the sound low and raspy, like gravel rolling in a tin can. “aw, c’mon, hotshot. don’t be so cold. i’m just tryin’ to *warm* things up between us.” His glowing white pupils flicked over her form, lingering just long enough to be noticed before he added, “besides, i’m keepin’ up just fine. you’re the one who’s all fired up to charge ahead. what’s the rush? got a hot date with a snowdrift?”
Rhea stopped dead in her tracks, pivoting on her heel to face him. Her arms crossed over her chest, and she fixed him with a stare that could’ve melted the snow around them. “Keep dreaming, funny guy. The only thing I’m rushing toward is getting out of this frozen hellhole before I turn into an icicle. And if you think your cheap puns are gonna thaw me out, you’re dumber than that pile of sticks your brother calls a puzzle.”
Sans tilted his skull, his grin widening as if her barb had been a personal invitation. “ouch, babe. that cuts deeper than a knife through butter. but hey, i’m all about stickin’ around. maybe i can *puzzle* out a way to get under that frosty exterior of yours.” He winked—or at least, one of his eye sockets flickered in a way that suggested a wink. It was hard to tell with a skeleton.
Rhea rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “You’re about as subtle as a sledgehammer, Sans. Let me make this crystal clear: I’m not some damsel waiting to be charmed by a bag of bad jokes. If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Otherwise, save your breath—or whatever it is you’ve got rattling around in that empty chest of yours.”
They stood there for a moment, the silence between them punctuated by the soft whisper of falling snow. Sans’s grin didn’t falter, but there was a glint in his sockets, a spark of something that suggested he was enjoying this far more than he let on. “fair enough, tough gal. i’ll lay off the sweet talk… for now. but ya gotta admit, papyrus’s latest contraption up ahead is worth a laugh. take a look.”
Rhea followed his gesture to a clearing just off the path. There, amidst the pines, was an elaborate mess of ropes, pulleys, and what looked like a hastily constructed wooden platform. A sign in front of it read, in bold, uneven letters: “BEWARE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS’S UNBEATABLE GAUNTLET OF DOOM!” A single, poorly tied knot held the whole thing together, and a pile of snowballs sat nearby, presumably meant to be ammunition but looking more like a sad attempt at a snowman.
Rhea snorted, her lips twitching despite herself. “Unbeatable, huh? Looks like a stiff breeze could take it down. Your brother’s got ambition, I’ll give him that. Too bad his execution’s as flimsy as your pickup lines.”
Sans let out a bark of laughter, the sound echoing through the trees. “damn, rhea, you’re sharper than a tack. but hey, don’t underestimate pap. he’s got heart—more than i do, anyway. wanna bet i can get through this ‘gauntlet’ without breakin’ a sweat? or, y’know, a bone?”
She arched a brow, stepping closer to him, her voice dropping to a challenging purr. “Oh, I’d love to see that. But let’s make it interesting. If you make it through without tripping over your own laziness, I’ll let you buy me a drink at the next town. If you don’t, you owe me an apology for wasting my time—and I expect it to be creative. Deal?”
Sans’s grin stretched impossibly wider, and for the first time, there was a flicker of genuine intrigue in his expression. “deal, sweetheart. but don’t be surprised if i’ve got ya sippin’ hot cocoa with me by the end of the day. i’m pretty *rib-tickling* when i wanna be.”
Rhea smirked, stepping back and gesturing toward the puzzle with a mock flourish. “Prove it, bonehead. Show me what you’ve got. And don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you just because you’ve got a cute smirk for a skull.”
As Sans sauntered toward the gauntlet, Rhea watched with a mix of amusement and something else—something warmer that she wasn’t quite ready to name. The snow crunched underfoot, the forest whispered around them, and the game, it seemed, was only just beginning.
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