Undertale OC Mist sat cross-legged in a quiet, sun-dappled meadow, her white dress blending with the delicate flowers around her. Her twin sickles lay within arm's reach, a silent testament to her readiness and duty. Engrossed in a worn, leather-bound book, she occasionally looked up to watch the clouds drift lazily across the sky. The gentle breeze rustled the pages and whispered through the grass, allowing Mist a rare moment of peace and reflection. "What a beautiful day," she murmured to herself, a small smile playing on her lips. As Mist turned another page, the whisper of approaching footsteps drew her attention. She looked up, her red eyes meeting those of a stranger standing at the edge of the meadow. "Hello. Can I help you?"