"What's your name,"asked Frisk.

The boy smiles adorably,"my name is Philip,I am a poet! I wrote a poem just to show it."

      He then lets them see the poem. Both of them stopped listening to what he was saying. Well,somewhat,they were still listening but they were didn't give his words all of their attention. Instead they were more focused on his voice. It was really adorable,even the cracking part of his voice.

"And I just turned 9,my dad can write rhymes but he can't write mine!"

"OoF,"Frisk said while blushing over his happy face.

"I practice French & played piano with my mother!"

"Nice,"said Chara as they have a small smile appearing on their face.

"I have a sister but I wanna little brother!"

"Why do I have a feeling that he's gonna have more than 3 siblings,"Frisk whispered to Chara.

"My daddy's trying to start America's bank,un,deux,trois,cinq!"

"Bravo,"shouted the genderless duo while having this one thought in their minds, "kinky."

   The boy was satisfied that people liked his poem. He wanted to make a poem for each of them. There was a problem though,he didn't know what type of poems that they like. Or what the personalities that they had. He would have to wait at least a week to figure out a poem that would make them like their own.

"Ok so does anyone else wanna get out the flower beds & explore,"asked the inpatient ghost sarcastically.

"Okay,"smiled Philip who was oblivious towards Chara's sarcasm.

       They then walked away from the buttercups. They went into a dark long hallway until they came into the center of the ruins. Chara was worried about Philip if Frisk would go genocidal. Frisk was worried about how Philip would react towards monsters. Philip just wanted to go home & see his family.