It's easy enough to see Duchess, once she's pointed out. And Sans-Serif doesn't even so much as twitch with surprise, to hear her talk. Why shouldn't cats talk? He hasn't even entirely understood that most of the birds physically can't, rather than just being rude.
Sans-Serif looks to Duchess, and actually gasps aloud a little in realization. It's shortly followed by a broad grin, of the sort Sans usually wears when overhearing a particularly good pun. Frisk is telling people about him! Telling people about him so that they smile when they see him! They really are friends now!
That's a particularly happy sort of realization, enough to distract him for the moment from any strangeness over the nickname. He draws nearer to the thrones, still wobbling a little from exhaustion.
"it's nice to meet you, too, duchess." He's getting better at greeting people, though he still doesn't think to offer his, for lack of a better word, full name.
Once he's close enough to comfortably talk, Sans-Serif sits himself down on the steps leading up to the throne to rest.
"so you're a cat...and a kitty?" He looks somewhat puzzled for a moment, by this. Sans-Serif has seen pictures of cats before, had picture books read to him about cats before. He just hadn't made the connection that "kitty" was another word for one. Certainly not when the pictures he's seen of cats have never looked so...bright and soft and pretty.
After a moment, he brightens somewhat hopefully as an explanation presents itself. "is that like how i'm a monster and a skeleton?" In the way of some children, his train of thought passes right by another station and he adds: "i like your hair."
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Sans-Serif looks to Duchess, and actually gasps aloud a little in realization. It's shortly followed by a broad grin, of the sort Sans usually wears when overhearing a particularly good pun. Frisk is telling people about him! Telling people about him so that they smile when they see him! They really are friends now!
That's a particularly happy sort of realization, enough to distract him for the moment from any strangeness over the nickname. He draws nearer to the thrones, still wobbling a little from exhaustion.
"it's nice to meet you, too, duchess." He's getting better at greeting people, though he still doesn't think to offer his, for lack of a better word, full name.
Once he's close enough to comfortably talk, Sans-Serif sits himself down on the steps leading up to the throne to rest.
"so you're a cat...and a kitty?" He looks somewhat puzzled for a moment, by this. Sans-Serif has seen pictures of cats before, had picture books read to him about cats before. He just hadn't made the connection that "kitty" was another word for one. Certainly not when the pictures he's seen of cats have never looked so...bright and soft and pretty.
After a moment, he brightens somewhat hopefully as an explanation presents itself. "is that like how i'm a monster and a skeleton?" In the way of some children, his train of thought passes right by another station and he adds: "i like your hair."