"S-4," Chara repeats, a little dully. "A pleasure." The tone is dry. They manage to sit up properly, after two tries. Cold, invisible hands on their shoulders help steady them. "Kindly continue." They can grit their teeth and bear the proximity if it get this... stuff... off of them.

Speaking of...

They absently tug at the bone the other Frisk is holding, aiming to snatch it back, and look up at them, seeing them properly for the first time since this started. Their good eye narrows.

"...you're not Frisk. Who are you?"

Why do you sound like them?