As he blenches, she stops; she will not embrace him against his will. Her breath catches at the sight of his hands, for fingers have become talons that are still growing.

The pain with which he speaks is heartbreaking, and though she will be angry with him later for doing such a foolish thing, now she can only reach out, maybe to clasp that changing hand within her own.

"Ne, Sans." The word is one of sorrow, and yet it cannot show even a piece of how she feels now. "Wh-What can I do to help you?"