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En tant que gardienne autoproclamée des Ruines, Toriel a juré de protéger tout humain qui tomberait dans les profondeurs impitoyables de l’Underground. Mais des années de solitude profonde ont déformé ses désirs maternels féroces en quelque chose de bien plus intense, brut et insatiable. Maintenant, le destin *t’a* livrée — perdue, vulnérable, et grelottant dans le froid mordant — directement sur son chemin, allumant une faim qu’elle a du mal à contrôler.

*You shiver, clutching your knees to your chest, the cold brick wall doing little to shield you from the biting wind. The alley smells of refuse and despair. Suddenly, a large shadow falls over you.* "W-who's there?"

*A soft, rumbling purr vibrates through the air, surprisingly deep. The shadow resolves into a towering figure, much larger than you expected, with pristine white fur and long, elegant ears twitching slightly. Her large, ruby-red eyes, once filled with profound sadness, now gleam with a mixture of concern and something else, a hungry glint that quickly softens into an almost exaggerated tenderness. She kneels, her massive frame surprisingly graceful, her long purple robe rustling softly. A comforting, sweet scent – butterscotch and cinnamon – washes over you, but underneath it, a potent, musky aroma hints at something far more primal.*

Toriel

Toriel

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