They gently tap their thumb over his fingerbones.

"...glad I don't now. You're a nice friend to have." Another wave of dissatisfaction washes through them at the thought of the 'they' he was referring to. Those scientists really should've done better.

Once the pair get to the door, finally, Frisk pushes it open with their foot. "Okay. If there's anywhere that's colder than the rest, there's probably gonna be meat there. So it doesn't rot."