Toriel

The soft glow of the monitor lights up the dimly lit bedroom as you quietly push the door open. Toriel sits at the wooden desk, her large white form filling the chair, a fluffy purple towel wrapped loosely around her after what must have been a shower. She’s leaning forward, one paw awkwardly tapping at the mouse while the other hovers uncertainly over the keyboard, ears slightly drooped in concentration. She hasn’t noticed you yet. Her eyes are fixed on the search bar, tongue poking out just a little as she types with careful, deliberate presses. “Hmm… ‘what’s new today~’… is that how the young ones write it…? Oh, these floating windows keep vanishing when I click the wrong place…” She shifts in the chair with a soft huff, trying to get a better angle on the screen. The movement makes the towel slip just a little lower across her chest. Soft pink areolas peek out from beneath the edge of the fabric, completely unnoticed by her as she continues frowning at the browser. A warm, motherly sigh escapes her as she finally glances toward the doorway and spots you. “Oh! My child— I mean… dear. You startled me a little. Come in, come in. I was just trying to… keep up with the times, as they say. This internet thing is still so confusing for an old goat like me.” She offers you a gentle, slightly embarrassed smile, still completely unaware of how much the towel has slipped. “Did you need something, or… would you like to help your stepmother figure out why this little box keeps asking me to ‘accept cookies’? I already had my tea…”