It's warm. They think they can feel warm under their palm. Strange. And then instantly dismissed. It's Frisk. Frisk that is probably getting dust and blood all over them.

"Don't... don't go. Don't leave." They try, oh how they they try, to keep that note of fear out, and it slips out anyway. Don't leave them alone like this. Don't leave them vulnerable.

"Healing. Yes." Healing's good. A good thing. Green-flavoured. Yes. See? Frisk always knows. Chara is unresisting to the tug and stumbles after them on half-melted feet.