[center][h3]The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, and the Skullgirl[/h3]
[b]Location:[/b] Frozen Highlands - Snowdin
Linkle’s [@Gentlemanvaultboy], Frisk’s [@Majoras End][/center]

Albedo's intuition proved to be spot-on, although he also found out that the list of people who wanted to help out poor Treat went beyond himself and Linkle. In fact, the kid who'd just a moment ago been snug in the alchemist's booth with his dog did not hesitate to spring from their seat, then march  straight for Grillby's front door with palpable determination. Whether through latent strength, the force of the wind outside, or both, the small child practically threw open the front door, and a shiver-inducing cold front blew through the establishment. Just short of plunging back outside into winter's chill, however, they stopped to look back at the teens currently extracting themselves from the booth to follow suit, and offered an introduction.

[i]Frisk[/i], the alchemist repeated in his head. An odd name even in this World of Light, not for unfamiliarity but for being an ordinary word, and not one typically associated with pleasant experiences, either. Still, if the few minutes Albedo knew them were anything to go by, this Frisk harbored nothing but good intentions when it came to matters of the heart, so he saw no reason not to answer the child in kind. "Albedo," he said simply, offering nothing more or less than his name. On account of the term's more esoteric origin he doubted this child would know, but he shared Frisk's peculiarity of wielding an ordinary word as a name--chalk, the second stage of alchemy's magnum opus, being pure from corruption but yet to awaken. 

He didn't blame Linkle for being so focused on the task at hand to introduce herself. Right about now, she probably found herself with quite the inner turmoil. All that talk about her eyes signifying the evil within her, and yet it was her adorable floppy rabbit ears that caused Treat to turn tail. The idealistic young heroine had already been stressed out by her transformation into the Skullgirl courtesy of that malignant heart that beat within her, not to pump blood but against the walls of her mind, As if the stress of becoming the Skullgirl wasn't enough, with that malignant heart inside her beating against the walls of her mind, she'd been freshly scarred by her encounter with Freya. Were he to ask Albedo imagined that the valiant girl might assure him that she cared only about destroyed the Stranger and keeping the good people of this world safe, but another hypothesis hung at the back of his mind. While he couldn't know for certain and hesitated to broach the subject, the alchemist felt sure that more than anything, Linkle feared falling to the evil within. The idea of becoming something evil, a dangerous monster that threatened all she loved, probably caused so much distress that she couldn't stand the thought. As such, the sight of someone afraid of her prompted not just a strong reaction, but an unquestionable obligation to make things right. She was right in that the hospital visit could wait. Albedo nodded his assent, jogged over to grab his coat, then followed Linkle and Frisk outside with his corgo bounding at his heels.

Outside the trio found no sign of Treat, which presented an immediate obstacle. Although still pretty pristine, the snow had seen enough foot traffic to obscure the runaway's bootprints, which would already be troublesome to distinguish from the rest on account of her being a wolfgirl rather than a wolf. With no solid leads to go on they stopped instead at the Christmas tree at the town's center, that beacon of charity and cheer whose perennial communal offerings gladdened every heart, save one. While Linkle rummaged for something suitable to use as a gesture of good faith, Albedo took a different route. Rather than wrack his brain for any half-forgotten clues as to Treat's whereabouts, he approached a [url=https://i.imgur.com/3Mrd2K5.png]rough-looking man[/url] with swept-back hair and a long black coat who they passed a moment ago as he strode toward's Grillby's entrance. Unintimidated, Albedo asked if he might know anything about the lonely wolf Treat, and though the man looked neither particularly friendly nor obliging, he pointed southeast. 

"You know the little mountain, on the village outskirts?" he asked, his voice as hard and coarse as his face. "Follow the trail going left, up and around. There's a house on the ridge, overlooking the lake. Townsfolk shun it on account of the rumors, so she holed up there."

Albedo thanked him and hurried back toward the others, where Linkle and Frisk were wrapping up their present hunt. He arrived in time to hear her question and took the chance to respond. "The little mountain just outside the village," he told her, not bothering to name his source. "Follow me."

[hr]

The inundation of warm windows, merry decorations, and small town comfort came to an abrupt end right after the trio passed between the local Food Donkey and Morshu's Shop and stepped onto the mountain trail behind them. Dignified, wholesome pines gave way almost instantly to a canopy of bare, dead branches, twisted like passageways in a maze overhead. Snowdin's cozy ambiance gave way to a heavy silence that permeated the grove, interrupted only by the crunch of snow beneath questing feet and the occasional jeering caw of a crow. Though he looked as composed as ever, Albedo kept a careful eye on his surroundings, alert for any sudden dangers. He couldn't help but wonder why Treat would choose to live at the end of such a spooky path, unless to her it sounded like a better deal than living among hateful rabbits. His eyes landed on a series of porcelain dolls, dangling from the scraggly branches like hanged men. If this wolfgirl wanted isolation, this was the right way to go about it.

Luckily the hike through the deadwood copse turned out to be both uneventful and short, even if it took Albedo, Frisk, and Linkle uphill. The trail brought them out of the grove and onto the mountainside along a sloped ridge, the going made much easier than the trip to the Cold Monastery by the presence of carved steps in the stone. Of course, that posed an inconvenience for Linkle's sled, which made it simpler to carry her gift by hand as she went by foot. With each step a distant but constant noise grew louder, mistakable for television static by a more modern mind, but assignable to only one natural phenomenon as far as Albedo knew. After a couple minutes the snowy ridge both widened and smoothed out, then shortly thereafter terminated at a set of ornate wrought iron gates. Behind the gates loomed a gloomy, austere dwelling of impressive stature, more of a mansion than a house, whatever that rough-faced stranger said. Beyond that lay the waterfall that Albedo and the others heard from afar, a torrent of freezing water from the mountain peak all the way down to the lake far below. Although the ridge afforded the newcomers an amazing view of the land to the southwest with all its snowy forests around interconnected bodies of water, Albedo kept his focus on the lonely mansion where Treat ostensibly lived. He saw two sets of tracks, their boot prints identical, one going toward town and faded by the snowfall, with the other fresh leading straight through the open gates.

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/DaZoRGY.jpg[/img][/center]