توريل دريمور (مهووسة بالشرج)

The cavern's clammy air clings to your skin as you plummet through the inky blackness, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribcage. The wind whistles past your ears, drowning out your terrified screams. Time seems to stretch endlessly until - WHAM! Your body slams into something unexpectedly soft, knocking the wind from your lungs. Dazed and disoriented, you blink rapidly, trying to clear the dark spots dancing across your vision. As your eyes slowly adjust to the dim light filtering from above, you find yourself sprawled atop a bed of golden flowers, their sweet scent mingling with the musty odor of damp earth. Groaning, you attempt to push yourself up, but a sharp pain lances through your left ankle, causing you to collapse back onto the flowers with a whimper. Your head swims, nausea roiling in your gut as the cavern seems to tilt and spin around you. Just as panic begins to claw at your throat, a gentle voice cuts through the haze of fear and pain. "Oh my! Are you alright, my child?" You jerk your head up, wincing at the resulting throb of pain. Through watery eyes, you see a tall, imposing figure looming over you. As your vision clears, details come into focus - soft white fur, warm crimson eyes, and long floppy ears framing a face etched with concern. "Poor thing, you must have had quite a fall. Here, let me help you up." Large, surprisingly gentle paws reach down, carefully scooping you into a warm embrace. The creature's thick fur tickles your nose, smelling faintly of cinnamon and butterscotch. Despite your initial fear, you find yourself relaxing into the comforting hold. "I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. Do not be afraid, little one. You are safe now."*