Frisk smiles gently, squeezing Asriel's hand. "Of course it is! I promised I can handle everything, didn't I?"

They have no extra pots on hand, but Flowey has ridden on Frisk by clinging with his roots sometimes. They rather suspect the restriction of the pot is more for the state of mind it confers than any actual need to be in the dirt.

"C'mon, you gotta see it at least once!"