That--that makes them a little calmer, barely. Because they need to be. "'S not cruel, he's just-- he's dumb. Prob'ly didn't want to make me feel bad," Frisk mutters bitterly.

They whirl and walk towards the nearest inner window, glaring out as if they'll be able to spot Sans from so far away. (They can't, but it feels better than just standing and staring at Tauriel.)