“paps, put that thing down.” The skeleton says sternly, pulling the puppy out of your hands. While raiding a corpse for spaghetti ingredients, you and your brother had found a puppy, you wanting to keep it under the assumption that it was a kitten.

As much as Sans wanted to keep it, they were already struggling for food without a pet, not to mention your habit of being too rough with things you liked. As much as he liked seeing people sad, he didn’t want you to kill the thing and mourn. “stop.”