You felt the glare from across the little cottage, your only fortification from the acid raining down on Snowdin. Maybe commenting on his appearance upon seeing him wasn't a good first impression, sure. He huffed in mild irritation and stood up. You wondered idly what he might be doing. Finding Papyrus? Working on something? You watched a vine slowly creep into a crack in the wall as you thought. Your train of thought was interrupted by a mug being set in front of you. "For the cold." Violet murmured, his voice muffled by his gas mask. He stepped on the vine you'd been watching, crushing the little purple blooms. The mug seemed to be filled with tea. Maybe he didn't mind you being in his home as much as you'd thought. Or this was a temporary niceness. "It's not, like, poison. Chamomile." He added in a slightly anxious afterthought. "But, uh, I have other stuff..?"