Snowdin wasn’t quiet, per se, but Grillby’s was. Mainly because the bartender and owner wouldn’t tolerate anyone who wasn’t quiet. See, Grillby could handle a bit of noise, some drunken flirting or ranting, but when it was obnoxious to the point that it drove other customers away, he wouldn’t allow it. He was a quiet monster, but he could hold his ground.

Grillby knew every face that came into his bar. He had an excellent memory. He could recall most of their names, what they often rambled about, etc. Call it obsessive, but Grillby really wasn’t. He only figured that if people wanted to be heard, and by a bartender no less, he might as well show them he’d been paying attention.

Besides, he didn’t have much else to do during these nights..

Yet, when he looked up, over the glass he was cleaning and the few heads still lounging on booths or by the card table, he hesitated. He couldn’t remember when he last hesitated.

A new face? In his tiny bar in Snowdin?

All the same, he greeted the newcomer with a curt nod, watching as the door shut behind them while he wiped the glass, semi-subconsciously. He looked away after a moment, deciding it was rude to stare. He supposed it wasn’t the oddest thing, greeting a new face..

Just unexpected was all.