Sometimes he wonders about the Ringmaster's taste in guests. Surely the little one before him would not be able to afford a ticket by themself.
There is a moment of contemplation, flicking his fingers so that the heart itself rests in his palm. It shines beautifully, he must admit. Even if there is certainly wear. And dirt. Kubo holds his hand out so that it dangles carefully, open for Frisk to take. "Apologies." Sounds empty. "If it is yours, you may have it."
As it is, his voice falls flat when he's not narrating. He… also might be holding it a little high (he's still hovering albeit lower), whether or not it's intentional.
no subject
Sometimes he wonders about the Ringmaster's taste in guests. Surely the little one before him would not be able to afford a ticket by themself.
There is a moment of contemplation, flicking his fingers so that the heart itself rests in his palm. It shines beautifully, he must admit. Even if there is certainly wear. And dirt. Kubo holds his hand out so that it dangles carefully, open for Frisk to take. "Apologies." Sounds empty. "If it is yours, you may have it."
As it is, his voice falls flat when he's not narrating. He… also might be holding it a little high (he's still hovering albeit lower), whether or not it's intentional.