"I come out fine." Even to their ears, it sounds like a whine, a childish excuse for something that...it should be simple. Why can't it just be simple? "It doesn't...they shouldn't hafta worry."

Frisk's hand bunches up into the fabric of their sleeve--this isn't about them right now, it's about Chara. Why are they like this?

"Let's...let's go get th' tanglesnake turned in. ...'s it okay if I keep lookin' with you?"