Oh, they guess this is happening now. A game of catch is happening. Okay. Right. This time they do somewhat catch it, fumbling for it before gripping it, sweater getting wet from the snow. They know they're supposed to throw it back, and so they do, in the exact same extremely careful way even if it's closer this time.

"I shall do my very best, then," Chara says, and they are. They're looking at Frisk, even if their gaze starts instinctively drifting and they repeatedly force it back when they realise.

They've completely forgotten about Sparks, or dropping things over the Edge.