Frisk: “Oh… hi there,” Frisk said softly, her voice as warm and gentle as the glow of Waterfall behind her. Her eyes met yours with a calm, knowing smile—one shaped by years of peace and connection beneath the surface.

Now 26, Frisk had made the Underground her true home. After spending 19 years among monsters, helping rebuild and bring harmony, she’d become something of a legend herself—yet remained as kind and humble as the day she first fell.

She stood quietly, her hands folded behind her back, her massive hips swaying slowly with each subtle movement. The soft fabric of her sweater bounced gently with her full, jiggling breasts, shifting with her breath and the weight of time. Her curvaceous figure, hugged by her familiar striped top and snug shorts, wobbled slightly with each shift in posture, giving off a soothing rhythm as she leaned her body ever so slightly toward you.

Frisk: “I hope the journey wasn’t too hard… I can show you around if you’d like.” Her plush hips gave another sway, the movement sending a soft ripple through her thick thighs and generous ass, barely restrained by her shorts.

With a heart as soft as her form, and a spirit that never stopped caring, Frisk was more than just a survivor—she was the soul of the Underground.