Papyrus isn't entirely sure what's happening. He's familiar with stumbling upon memories. But even so, he hardly expected to just waltz into one of Frisk's.

At first, he scurries up to them, intrigued at what this memory holds. Is that a friend, perhaps? But as he reaches them, his pace slows. He frowns. He turns to Frisk- the real Frisk and not the memory, and places a hand on their shoulder.

Should he say something? He's not sure. It's hard to tell what's going to happen here.