Sans-Serif gives this all due consideration. "...right. it's okay." He nods his agreement. And indeed, Sans-Serif does look a little reassured. The bird might have a mother, but he doesn't have a brother. Sans-Serif might not have a mother, but he does have a brother, and a really cool one, too. So he's still pretty lucky.

He finds himself nodding along in resolute agreement with the little bird. The story isn't over yet. He'll find his mother. The story has to have a happy ending, just like the one they read to Frisk. It has to. And maybe once they find out what a mother is, they can go looking for her together, too.

But the story doesn't get any happier from there. The bird calls out to what look to be big machines, things that don't even respond to its question. Finally, clearly tired and upset, the bird lands on top of a machine bigger and more fiercesome-looking than some of the worst ones in the facility. It could fall from that high up or cut itself on those sharp edges or get hurt and then never find its mother. Sans-Serif covers his eyesockets in dread.