Sans follows behind her, all but vibrating with restless energy. He's torn between the wild need to go faster and the rational knowledge that Grune must know what she's doing, that Sans is the dead weight in this situation and it's best to keep his mouth shut.

The little flowers don't look like much. But Grune looks as confident as he ever sees her, and so Sans nods. "tea. uh, sure thing." He reaches out to take her hand, in preparation of takinga shortcut down to the kitchens. "you...you know how to handle that part, right? 'cause i'm really not much of a tea guy." Maybe the occasional Sea Tea, but why would he ever have learned how to make that when Old Gerson always had a stash on hand?