A Dreemurr's Games | Undertale Hunger Games

Chapter 1

"That will be ninety-five gold!" The Snowdin shopkeeper handed me my basket with two bundles nestled inside: Three cinnamon buns and a couple handfuls of berries. I had already counted out the gold. I left the coins on the counter, pulled my hood over my head, and gathered my basket.

The bunny shopkeeper smiled warmly. "Good luck to you, Prince Dreemurr." Her two bunny children peeked out from behind the counter and blinked at me. One of them looked to be quite young, but the other was probably about the same age as me.

"Good luck, to you, too. May the odds be ever in your favor." My grip tightened on the basket as I sprinted off into the snow. The lights of the town quickly faded in the swirling mist and falling snowflakes. What a gloomy day for the reaping. I had to remind myself that the reaping was actually going to be held in the Ruins this year, which was a perk for me. It rarely ever happened. Usually, it would be held in more populous places, like Hotland or Snowdin. But the Underground wasn't that well populated anyway.

My purple cloak shone silver with the glint of ice as it flapped behind me, catching wind. I hadn't even been running for a minute and the frost was already nipping at my paws. I blinked away snowflakes from my eyes.

Through the mist, I could see the dull magenta Ruins door. Almost home. I slowed my pace and skidded to a halt where the snow was melting away. I took a moment to lean on the door to catch my breath before going inside. My eyes rested on the basket, which was dusted with little snowflakes. I pressed my free hand gently against the bundle of cinnamon buns, and to my relief, they were still warm.

The Ruins door was nearly frozen shut as always. After the third try, it finally budged, and I slipped inside. I noticed my fur was caked with snow. I set the basket down, dusted myself off and shook out my wet fur, and picked it back up again. I then trudged along the path towards home.

...

My fur was almost dry once I got inside. I could smell Mom's famous butterscotch-cinnamon pie wafting from the kitchen, and Chara sat at the table, scribbling at a piece of paper furiously with a red crayon. Home.

Chara looked up from her drawing as I set the basket on the table. "Hey, Azzy."

I frowned at her. "My name is Asriel."

She just snickered and went back to drawing, and Mom appeared from the kitchen with two slices of pie. "Hello, my child." She set the tray onto the table and prepared our plates. "How was your trip? You aren't cold, are you?"

I shook my head. "I'll be okay, Mom. It was just a little snow." I pulled a chair out and sat down beside Chara. "Besides, I'm nearly dry already!"

Mom chuckled and pulled my cloak off my shoulders. I turned around to protest, but she was already hanging it on the coat rack.

"It'll be dripping wet, and I don't want you trailing water everywhere you go." She explained before I could complain.

"But it makes me look cool." I muttered.

"I think you look cool just as you are." Mom ruffled my fur and kissed my head, and did the same for Chara, who ducked away. "Now, eat up, children! We have a reaping to attend."

Right. The reaping.

I nibbled at a cinnamon bun absently, while Chara chopped at her berries with a knife. I felt the urge to tell mom that she was playing with knives again, but I really didn't feel like telling anyone anything. Not with the reaping in less than an hour.

I noticed Chara stabbing the berries a bit more violently this time, and I turned to face her. She was ruining her drawing with all the juice.

"Chara, your drawing!" I pointed out.